


double trouble

by artaemis, bangtanstanst



Category: Christian Yu (DPR), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, And Lots of It, Bicurious Jeon Jungkook, Bisexual Christian Yu | DPR Ian, Bisexuality, Blow Jobs, Christian Yu has a Big Dick, Come Eating, Dom Christian Yu | DPR Ian, Dom Jeon Jungkook, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, Drunk Sex, Dry Humping, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flower Shop Owner Eric Nam, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Roommates, Sub Jeon Jungkook, Switch Jeon Jungkook, Tattoo Artist Christian Yu, Tattoo Artist Jeon Jungkook, Tattoos, Tequila, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, brat reader, it's precome but
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-01-27 01:55:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 59,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21384175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artaemis/pseuds/artaemis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/bangtanstanst/pseuds/bangtanstanst
Summary: A bet with your roommate Jungkook gets you in a world of trouble, though you’re not exactly complaining. After all, who wouldn’t love trouble when it comes in the form of the man, the myth, the legend; the tattoo artist across the street, Christian motherfucking Yu?
Relationships: Christian Yu | DPR Ian/Jeon Jungkook, Christian Yu | DPR Ian/Reader, Jeon Jungkook/Christian Yu | DPR Ian/Reader, Jeon Jungkook/Reader
Comments: 26
Kudos: 92





	1. prologue

“I think that’s the last one!” Jungkook says from the threshold of your new apartment, a little out of breath. He groans and heaves the last box out of the hallway. The muscles in his arms shift, pulling at the tattoos that ink his body. You exhale shakily, dragging your eyes away from him, and you pointedly stare at the box you’re carrying to your designated bedroom. You very nearly trip over your carpet in your distracted state, yelping as you catch yourself, just barely. Sweat sticks uncomfortably to your back and makes your shirt cling to your body. You wiggle around to try to make it come loose as you walk on, huffing when it doesn’t work. You dump the hefty box of books on your mattress and walk back to the living room, carefully avoiding the treacherous rug as you go.

Bright white walls reflect the soft November sunlight that filters through the windows and warms the light wooden floor under your bare feet. Jungkook stands in the middle of the living room, looking over a sea of cardboard boxes. His eyebrows are pulled into a deep frown, a few strands of curly hair have escaped the makeshift bun he’s pulled his hair into. 

“Twenty-two, twenty-three… Yeah, that’s all of them,” he says, relief palpable in his voice. He clears a couple of things from the IKEA couch, one of the only currently unpacked pieces of furniture, and makes room for you and him to sit on. 

“Oh, thank fuck,” you wheeze as you sink into the fabric of your oh-so-beloved couch. It dips when Jungkook plops himself onto it next to you.

“The stairs really take it out of ya,” he says, panting heavily.

You groan in reply. “The one downside to living on the top floor, I guess,” you mutter under your breath. You shuffle on the couch until your head rests on Jungkook's shoulder. His arm wraps around you in a nearly instinctive motion, something you’ve grown accustomed to over the past four years of living together. His bicep shifts as you adjust yourself on his shoulder and you smother the wave of decidedly-not-platonic-affection that runs in shivers down your arms. 

“By the way, we share a wall now, that means no three AM workouts,” you warn, twisting your neck to look at him.

“Why not?” Jungkook pouts at you, his pink lips purse cutely as he looks at you with big puppy eyes. Honestly, it’s unfair; he’s not supposed to be cute _and_ sexy. There’s got to be a rule against that somewhere, no?

“I don’t want to hear you grunting and moaning in the middle of the fucking night, that’s why,” you grumble and shove his shoulder.

“Psh, you love my grunting moans,” he jokes and you jab his chest in retaliation, ignoring the faint pulling pain in your muscles. His white shirt clings to the ridges of his stomach as he breathes hard, still recovering from the countless trips up and down the seven flights of stairs. Long dark curls fall artfully into his face and cling to his temples, sweat beads on the column of his neck and the silver barbells that pierce his nipples stick out against the soaked fabric of his shirt. You’re reminded again just how unfair the entire situation is, how he looks so effortlessly handsome when you’re sure you look like an absolute wreck.

You let your eyes run across the sharp cut of his jaw, getting stuck momentarily on his soft looking lips. _Stop that_, you admonish yourself. You avert your eyes quickly, looking at your lap as your cheeks heat embarrassingly. “Ugh, gross,” you joke instead, tucking away the warm feeling Jungkook gives you every damn time you look into his stupid, sparkling eyes. He grins at you and your heart skips a beat. _Stupid crush_. 

A familiar, comfortable silence stretches between you and you pick at a growing blister on your palm. Jungkook shifts on the couch, his thighs strain against the ripped material of his jeans and you carefully avoid looking anywhere near him. Your gaze trails over the sea of moving boxes and moves over the naked walls of your apartment instead. _Keep it together_, you tell yourself. You’ve been friends with him for forever, you can’t let your crush on him ruin everything. Besides, it’s not like someone like _him_ would go for someone like _you_ anyways. 

“Can’t believe we did it,” he mutters and stretches his legs out, your eyes involuntarily flicker over to watch the movement. Inked details shift underneath the ripped knees of his jeans and you gulp heavily. His head falls back against the couch cushion as he lets out a content sigh.

“Yeah,” you agree, a little dazed as you try not to stare at the column of Jungkook’s throat, it moves in soft bobbing motions as his breathing slows gradually. You drag your eyes away from him and look around your new apartment instead. The couch looks out onto large windows and beyond, the small university city you both decided to stay in after graduating spreads out before your eyes. Bare trees and smoking chimneys sprawl out as far as the eye can see. You sigh, letting your eyes run over the landscape. It’s only eleven am, the light is still soft in its wintery glow and frost shines like jewels on the rooftops. You prop your feet on the still unpacked coffee table; the heavy boxes make for a decent footrest. The piles of packed furniture call back your attention and you look around the room. To your left, directly across from your room, is the small, open kitchen with an island that spills into the living room. You sigh happily; it’ll be a great place once you’re all moved in.

You tick ‘carry boxes up’ off your mental priority list and go over what else you need to do today, groaning when you remember the next, admittedly pressing item on that list. “Oh fuck, we haven't gone grocery shopping yet,” you say, somewhat dreading having to get up from the comfort of the couch. As if moving out of your old flat and transporting all the boxes and furniture in Jungkook’s beat-up old car wasn't exhausting enough.

Jungkook whines and rests his cheek on top of your head. “My arms have liquified, Y/N. I can't even lift a finger right now,” he says, sighing dramatically and flopping his arms uselessly as if to prove his point. You scoff. 

“So being ripped to hell isn't even useful?” you tease him and poke his hard stomach.

“Sure it is – I get all the ladies,” he answers and you can practically hear the way smugness twists his words.

“Oh, jesus.” You roll your eyes even though he can't see you. He laughs anyways and you smile too.

Jungkook hisses when you move your head. “Fuuuck, my arms _huuurt_,” he whines and you laugh in schadenfreude. “This isn't funny! How the hell will I ink anyone tomorrow if I can't even use my fucking arms?” he complains and sinks lower into the couch.

“Oh my god, that's right! Tomorrow's your first day!” You move away from him to look at him.

He's grinning, big and toothy, clearly excited about his new job. “Yeah! I'm so fucking ready, it's such a cool place too,” he gushes and you smile. It's nice to see him like this, so openly passionate. His cheeks flush slightly with excitement and you resist the urge to poke the faint dimple that appears when he smiles. Your heart flutters painfully in your chest. “It's called Rome, which is already the coolest fucking name ever. And the owner is just super chill but he loves tattooing so much?”

“Wait, wait, wait. Rome?” You sit up a little straighter at the name. “That's right across from Saku! Why didn't you tell me?!” You slap his chest admonishingly.

“Seriously?” he sits up, eyes sparkling as he blows a strand of hair out of his face.

You nod furiously. “We can meet up for lunch!” you say excitedly and Jungkook hops up and down on the couch. You’d started working at the flower shop, Saku, during your senior year of college, and you’d fallen completely in love with it. After graduating, you’d asked your boss, Eric, if he’d consider letting you on as a full time employee. And just like that, you’d been set from the start – unlike Jungkook, who had struggled for months to find a tattoo parlour hiring new artists. Then one day, he’d come rushing to your old college apartment, ragged and out of breath, his hair a wild mess as he’d picked you up in his arms. He’d twirled you around the room, screaming with delight that he’d finally gotten a job. You still remember the way his eyes sparkled brightly, shining wonderfully as he looked up at you. You’d almost kissed him that day. 

“This is literally the best job ever,” he says and you nod in agreement, giggling at the prospect of seeing your best friend every day. You lean against him again, enjoying the warm, solid way he feels. “I hope the boss is as cool as he seemed during the interview, though, because he said he's a bit of a hard ass,” Jungkook continues and he worries his bottom lip.

“Wait, is he the one who owns that really loud motorcycle?” you ask, practically feeling the heavy sound of the humming engine you hear every single morning reverberate through your chest. You remember the one time you’d run into the guy at the ramen restaurant next to Saku; he’d held the door open for you, smiling dazzlingly at you. His eyes had softened somehow and when the wild curls of his hair had fallen into his face, you’d resisted the urge to brush them back. Heat sizzles through your veins at the memory. 

“I don't know?” He shrugs, frowning at you. “I think so, though, he seems like he'd own a bike.”

“Oh my god, he's your _boss_? Even more reason to go over and pick you up for lunch, then,” you say, grinning darkly at Jungkook.

He frowns, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “Why did you say that so weirdly?”

“Because he's the hottest man I’ve ever seen and you just gave me a legitimate reason to go over and drool all over him,” you admit immediately, wistfully remembering the man’s dark curls and full lips. You’re not even hesitant to tell Jungkook – you've always been honest with him, about everything. You've been friends since kindergarten, roommates all throughout college, and now that you’ve graduated, you’ve moved into a better apartment, _together_. There’s something about Jungkook that immediately puts you at ease – it’s almost as though any and all tension just melts out of your bones when you’re around him. It doesn't feel weird to open up to him. When you'd broken up with your ex, you'd turned to Jungkook to console you. When Jungkook had told his parents he was going to take his art degree and become a tattoo artist, they had threatened to disown him. And you’d taken care of him, letting him be mad and angry and sad as he paced the narrow space of your college flat. There’s an unspoken agreement between the both of you; it’s always you and him, together, against the world. It’s been this way for years, and despite your highly annoying and always-present crush on him, you can’t deny that having him as a best friend is the cherry on top of your daily life.

“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve botched a flower arrangement because I was looking at him through the window,” you add and sigh dreamily.

“You sound like you wanna get into his pants.” He raises an eyebrow at you. You shift a little, feeling yourself blush under his stare. Jungkook wrinkles his nose and his lips turn down in disgust. “Please don't fuck my boss, Y/N,” he says.

You can't help the mischievous grin as you look up at him. “Can't make any promises, baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof here we gooo!!! we’ve been dying to share this for MONTHS, hope you guys enjoy it!!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The train to thirst town is departing you guys and we’re jumping straight in OOPSIEEEE we hope you enjoy it!! we’re super excited to share this with you guys♥♥♥

Small snowflakes flutter from the darkening evening sky, they cling to the large shop windows and slowly slide down the glass to leave behind streaks of meltwater. There’s a thin layer of white coating the streets already, just enough for wheel tracks to show on the road that separates the two rows of storefronts. You can’t help but smile as you wring out the cleaning cloth in your hands, remnants of soapy water dripping into the weathered black bucket at your feet before you turn back to the window, wiping the last few drops of water running down the icy cold glass.

“Hey, when did it start snowing?”

You smile, turning to look over your shoulder as you toss the cloth into the bucket. “Few minutes ago,” you reply, picking up the bucket to haul it to the back room. “I heard it’s gonna get worse later tonight.”

Eric smiles as he stares out the shop windows, as mesmerised by the snow as you. “Can’t believe I forgot my gloves this morning,” he says with a snort, shaking his head as he turns back to the list of inventory he’s been updating. His brown hair falls over his forehead as he leans closer to the binder on the wooden counter, softly muttering the numbers on the paper aloud before he checks them on the computer next to him.

You chuckle, slipping past him to push open the door to the back. “I’m sure you won’t get frostbite at a few degrees below freezing,” you reply, emptying the bucket into the low sink, careful not to spill anything. You’ve had to mop that damn floor one too many times.

“Well, you never know!” he defends.

All you do is laugh, opening the tap to swish some clean water in the bucket. “Ever heard of pockets?” you return, dumping the water into the sink before putting the bucket underneath it.

Eric laughs sarcastically in response as you step back into the store. “Admit it, gloves are just much better,” he insists, squinting at the computer screen and looking back at the binder.

You snort, closing the door behind you. “The only gloves I will accept are the touchscreen ones,” you joke, walking over to a bucket of dark roses to rearrange them. You squint at one that seems close to wilting, picking it out.

“Those are only the flimsiest gloves ever,” he returns, looking up from the binder to raise an eyebrow at you. “You’re saying you’d rather lose a finger than stay off your phone for a few minutes?”

You stifle a chuckle as you walk back to the counter, turning the rose towards Eric so he can take a look. “You sound really old right now, you know that?” you say through a laugh.

He snorts, taking a closer look at the rose before nodding at you that it’s ready to be thrown out. You gently put it on the counter, next to the poor sunflower that also didn’t last long enough for someone to buy it. “You’re just saying that because you know I’m right,” he returns with a grin, looking back down at the inventory list.

“Of course, grandpa Nam, you’re _always _right,” you reply, smiling innocently when he lifts his head and narrows his eyes at you.

When your grin only widens the longer he glares, his annoyed façade quickly falls and he simply laughs, shaking his head. “I guess this officially makes you a youth, then, huh?” he asks, closing up the binder and putting it away in one of the drawers underneath the counter.

You laugh and nod. “Capital Y and everything.”

With a snort, he rises back up and looks at the computer, closing one tab only to open a new one. “Go roll around in the snow outside, then,” he jokes, a small smile tugging at his lips as he wipes some dirt off the counter, trying to get it out of the grains running through the light brown wood. “Your shift ended, like, fifteen minutes ago.”

You’d honestly forgotten the time completely – the fact that the sky grows dark so early these days doesn’t really help in keeping time, either. But you’re certainly not going to refuse the offer to go home. “What if I get frostbite, though?” you joke nevertheless, slipping back into the storage room.

Eric lets out an offended shout as you grab your coat off one of the pegs right next to the door, snatching your bag off the floor. “I should’ve known you were gonna do this to me.”

You just grin, pulling your scarf out of your sleeve and hanging it loosely around your neck. “Well, I really should get going,” you reply, cheerfully ignoring his remark as you slip into your warm coat.

“Leaving when things get hard, huh?” he teases. You snort in response, grabbing the two flowers off the counter and walking towards the door. “I see how it is.”

You look over your shoulder to send him a bright smile. He’s once again unable to keep up his stern façade, simply smiling and shaking his head at you. “I’ll see you tomorrow, grandpa.”

“Bye, good luck with that frostbite!”

You laugh as you open the door, a gust of cold wind forcing its way inside. “You, too!” you return as the door falls closed, just in time to hear him chuckle in reply. A second burst of icy cold wind hits you and you shiver, hastily zipping up your coat while trying not to drop the flowers. Burying your face into your collar, you trudge forward, gritting your teeth to keep them from clattering.

Snowflakes settle in your hair as you walk up to the stoplight, joining the small group of people waiting to cross the wide road. A random, scattered collection of shops, restaurants, and convenience stores inhabits the buildings around you, the light streaming from their windows illuminates the whitening streets. It glows softly against the snow, stark against the dark sky.

You smile lazily, eyes following a glossy black car as it drives past you, its engine humming in your ears. Inevitably, almost out of habit now, your gaze stops at one of the storefronts right across the street, wedged in between a bar and a small second-hand clothing store. The painfully vibrant neon sign right above the entrance draws you in almost on instinct – the cursive red letters burn your eyes, and you have to squint to read them. _Rome_.

The light turns green and you blink, tearing your gaze away from the sign to look down at the flowers. Twirling them between your fingers, you take a breath and push it back out, mindlessly following the small crowd crossing the street. You lift your eyes once everyone around you disperses on the other side, walking up to the tattoo parlour. When you look up, you find the neon red letters above the dark wooden doorframe glaring back at you once more, and you can’t stop your heart from racing. _Why does it do that every goddamn time?_

With a sigh, you hold the flowers in one hand to grip the metal door handle with the other, pushing your shoulder against the door to gently force it open. The hinges groan in protest, as they have ever since you dropped by on Jungkook’s first day – which has to be about a year ago now.

“Y/N, hi!”

Your heart stutters and your head snaps up from the flowers. An almost instinctive smile breaks out as you step inside the warm parlour, your eyes falling on the owner of the voice. Dark hair curls over his forehead, a forest green woollen sweater hangs off his shoulders and the sleeves are pulled back to reveal the dark ink patterns decorating his arms. A soft smile tugs at his lips, his eyes crease in the corners. _As always._ One more thing that hasn’t changed in the year that Jungkook has worked here – _Christian motherfucking Yu._

“Hi,” you practically breathe out, sending him a smile as you let the door fall closed behind you. The loud _thud_ abruptly pulls you out of your reverie and you clear your throat, holding up the rose and the sunflower to him. “I brought some more flowers, if you have room for them,” you add sheepishly. Your eyes flit over to the counter right across from you, falling on the large vase already overflowing with flowers. _Oops._

“We always have room for more,” Christian says with a smile, putting down the tattoo gun back on the table of supplies he’s cleaning. He swiftly pulls off the black latex gloves on his hands as he slips past you, reaching up to mess with his bangs. His chunky black boots clunk heavily against the wood imitation tiles and you blink, rooted to the spot for a moment.

He takes another step and you jolt awake again, you tear your eyes away before you stare at him for _too_ long. You follow him up to the counter, helping him rearrange the flowers to make room for new ones, picking out a few wilting ones while you’re at it.

“Jungkook’s still with a client, by the way,” Christian tells you absently as you carefully slip the dark red rose into the vase, pulling out a wilting dahlia. You glance into the direction of Jungkook’s station, all the way at the back of the parlour. He’s sitting with his back to you, a low buzzing sound echoes through the room as he leans over a young, black-haired guy’s forearm. “Should be done in a few minutes, though.”

“Aw, fuck, so I’ve gotta talk to _you _now?” you remark with a small smile, looking back at Christian as he snorts in response. You suppress a soft sigh, quickly pretending to focus on the flowers.

Uselessly fumbling around with them, you look up at him from underneath your eyelashes instead. You’ll admit, you used to simply ogle at his dazzling smile and his sharp jawline, at the muscled arms he’s barely hiding underneath his sweater – and, you’ll admit, you still indulge yourself every so often. But over time, you’ve somehow grown endeared with the way his eyebrows furrow into a subtle frown, with the way the tip of his tongue pokes through his lips when he concentrates, with the way he always, _always_ manages to take your breath away when he’s not even doing much. It reminds you of the way Jungkook makes you feel when he’s cooking, or gaming, or just walking next to you and you _hate_ your brain for doing this to you. Isn’t there a rule somewhere saying you can’t have two debilitating crushes at once?

“Come on, I’m not that big of a dick, am I?” _I bet he does have one, though_, echoes a voice in the back of your mind – you simply force a laugh in response. Holding back a frustrated sigh, you fix your eyes on the vase and pull out a wilting chrysanthemum, trying your hardest to dispel the thought from your mind. You’re not going to let yourself think about it here, not if you can help it – you only let your mind run freely when it’s late, when you’re tired and horny and you just can’t stop yourself. _And that’s already bad enough._

“How was your shift?”

His words pull you out of your thoughts and you’re thankful for it. “Is this you trying to butter me up or something?” you return as you slip the sunflower into the vase, eyes flickering down to his lips as they pull into a smile. “These flowers aren’t enough for you?”

He grins, snorts once more – you bite your lip to keep your smile from growing idiotically wide. “Oh, please, I’d do a lot more if I were trying to butter you up and you know it,” he shoots back and your heart skips a beat.

“Yeah?” you say. You try to keep your voice steady, but it’s hard – with the way he’s smiling at you, the mere _tone_ in his voice…. Biting on your cheek, you swiftly pluck a few dead flowers out from in between the blooming ones. You can’t stop your imagination from running rampant this time, and you can’t help but _think_ what it would be like to kiss him, to pull that goddamn sweater over his head and run your fingers over his skin, his lips trailing down your neck, lower, _lower_… A shiver runs down your spine, it settles low in your gut.

You clear your throat, biting down on your tongue. _Fucking keep it together, you horndog._ “Like what?”

Christian pauses for a split second and he raises an eyebrow at you – you almost feel like he’s read your mind, like your secret is _out_. But that’s impossible. _Please, god, someone tell me that’s still impossible. _“Like chocolate and cacti,” he returns with a teasing grin, taking the wilted flowers from your hands to toss them into the garbage can. You laugh almost purely out of relief, put at ease by his lighthearted demeanour – as always. “Now just humour me and tell me about your day, will you?”

You laugh once more, leaning against the counter. Christian walks back over to the tools he was cleaning before you walked in and you let out a short sigh, diverting your eyes back to the vase. “I sold flowers to people, same as always,” you reply with a shrug. Your gaze involuntarily flickers over to him, though you’re simply left to stare at his broad back.

“Descriptive,” Christian says through a laugh, starting to pack up the equipment on the table.

With a smile curling at your lips, you turn around, leaning against the counter. You fix your gaze on your feet before Christian can catch you staring – you’ve been careful about not making it _too_ obvious for a whole year now, you’re not gonna ruin that today. “What can I say, I tell riveting stories,” you joke.

He snorts. “So no annoying customers at all? Cheating husbands trying to make things up to their wives?”

A grin curls at your lips as you look back up at him – he’s putting the equipment away, glancing at you only briefly before turning back to his station. “If you wanted gossip, you should’ve just said so, Yu,” you return playfully, raising an eyebrow at him.

He turns around as soon as he’s put the last box of tattooing needles away, sending you a sheepish grin. “Well, you know, your stories _are_ usually pretty riveting,” he says with a shrug, walking back to the reception counter and bending down to grab a black binder.

You lean on the wooden surface as he rummages through whatever mess is down there – meanwhile, you can’t help but stare at his broad shoulders, his back, just a tiny bit lower… It takes you a second to realise what you’re doing and you quickly jolt up, pointedly moving your eyes back to the wall. You’re trying to fight the heat rising to your cheeks, though you can’t help but look one last time and –

Jungkook clears his throat, his heavy footsteps abruptly pull you out of your reverie and you shoot up from the counter, feeling like a deer caught in a pair of headlights as you look at him. The man trailing right behind him has his forearm wrapped in saran wrap, the skin under it looks a little red, a little sore. You vaguely recognise his face – the distinct, sharp lines of his jaw, the plump lips. One of Jungkook’s friends.

Jungkook slips behind the counter, Christian wordlessly shuffles aside to make place for him. “Okay, Bam, so you’re all done for today, you know the drill. Keep it clean, don’t poke it and if something’s up: come back or go to the hospital,” Jungkook gives him the classic, if slightly abridged post-tattoo debriefing.

You look up just briefly, catching Jungkook’s eye as he hits a few buttons on the cash register – he looks tired, his eyebrows are furrowed subtly and his lips curled down. Before you can send him a reassuring smile, though, he looks away and focuses on sending his newly tattooed friend home.

Giving him a wary look, you tear your eyes away from him and fumble with the flowers in the vase, pulling out the sunflower that’s now hanging over the edge and slipping it into the middle of the bouquet instead. It’s been a long day, you can’t exactly blame him for looking like he needs some rest – but you can’t help but think that he actually looks _annoyed_. With you.

Your eyes flicker over to him once more, your eyebrows furrow. He looks fine when he’s talking to his friend, laughs like he normally would. _Is he seriously mad at you?_ You wouldn’t even know why – you did your dishes this morning, took out the trash, you even bought the cereal he was running out of just yesterday.

Letting out a sigh, you shake your head. He’d tell you if something was up – you’ve been friends long enough for him to be honest with you about that stuff. Giving him one last glance, you turn to look at Christian and lean over the counter, letting Jungkook and his friend be as they walk over to the door. “Need me to help with anything?” you ask, earning you a bright smile from Christian. _God, you’d be offering to help all hours of the day if he just kept looking at you like that._

“It’s fine, I just need to finish up some of the administration stuff,” he replies, waving your words away. “Thanks, though.”

You grin, shrugging. “Alright, then I guess I’ll just grace you with my wonderful presence for now.”

He laughs, your heart flutters. The sound is somehow even warmer than his voice, and you know you’d be getting weak in the knees for it even if he _didn’t_ have the muscles he does now.

“‘S all I could ask for,” he replies with a smile, flipping through the binder until he ends up at the right page. “I mean, who wouldn’t –”

“Hey, Y/N, I just need to clean up my shit and I’ll be right out,” Jungkook interrupts, brushing past you on his way back to his station. You frown once more, looking at him as he walks – his voice sounded monotone and his smile has faded. He’s been like this many times before, it’s almost as if it’s become his standard mood when you pick him up after your shift. You can’t put your finger on when it started exactly, or why he even behaves like this in the first place. It’s like a switch flicks and you barely recognise him – and just as easily, he’s back to normal.

“I can do it,” Christian says, glancing up from the binder – Jungkook stops and turns, his eyebrows raised. “Just go home, Jeon, you look like you need some rest.”

Jungkook’s lips part in surprise, his features seem to soften somewhat. “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” Christian returns, sending Jungkook a smile and a nod. “Wouldn’t wanna make Y/N wait, now would we?” His eyes flicker over to you and you almost blush at the grin he’s wearing. It feels like he’s staring straight into you, like he’s heard every single thought you’ve had about him– you quickly look away, fixing your eyes on Jungkook instead.

“Thanks, man,” he replies brightly, sending Christian a smile. He grabs his coat off the back of the chair at his station and slips into it as he walks to the door, making a slight detour to throw his arm around your shoulder. You bite down on your tongue when your heart races at the gesture, warmth spreads through your veins. This damn parlour has become downright dangerous for you – you can’t even get a fucking _break_.

You furtively glance up at Jungkook. There’s still something in his eyes that makes you frown, almost like his happiness isn’t completely authentic – but it’s gone as soon as he blinks. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Christian nods in response, looking back down at the binder as Jungkook turns the two of you around. “See you guys, have a nice night.”

You send him a smile over your shoulder, waving at him. “You too!” you reply just as Jungkook takes his arm off your shoulder to open the door, and you exit the parlour alongside him.

You let out a content sigh that morphs into a white cloud, swirls up into the darkening winter night. You glance aside at Jungkook, who keeps his eyes fixed on his feet, his hands buried deep into his pockets. His skin looks pale under the yellow street lights, and even in this shitty lighting, you notice the still-present frown on his forehead.

Sighing once again, you wordlessly swing your arm around his shoulders. He leans closer to you almost immediately, his frown seems to fade subtly as his arm wraps loosely around your waist. He still doesn’t speak, but the small smile that tugs his lips upward is enough of a reward.

* * *

“Hey, stop eating raw onions, you weirdo,” you call, reaching over to snatch a piece of onion out of Jungkook’s hand and pointedly putting it down on the cutting board.

He snorts, picking the piece back up and stuffing it into his mouth anyway. “You’re not my mom, you can’t stop me,” he retorts, chewing with a triumphant grin on his face.

You lift your gaze from the pot in front of you, narrowing your eyes at him. He’s planted his butt on the kitchen counter right next to the stove, waiting until he can dump in the vegetables on the cutting board in his lap. An oversized dark green hoodie hangs off his shoulders, and he’s had to push the sleeves up his arms to keep his sweater paws from touching the food. To say he looks cute is a gross understatement, and you want to hit yourself for even _thinking_ of hugging and kissing him when _you’re just cooking, for fuck’s sake_. It’s annoying, really, how your ever-growing crush on Christian has done nothing to negate the feelings you have for Jungkook. Rather, it makes them seem more intense in comparison – your heart beats faster, your cheeks burn hotter. You’re just glad you can still get your words out.

“No, but I am the roommate that will have to endure your stinky farts tomorrow.”

He laughs, raising an eyebrow. “You do know we’re both eating the same thing, right?” he returns, maintaining eye contact as he theatrically lets his hand float back down to the cutting board, heading straight for the onions.

Eyes still narrowed, you tear your gaze away from him to look at the pot once more – saved by the bubbles. “It’s boiling, you can toss them in,” you tell him, a victorious smile tugging at your lips.

Jungkook huffs and drops his hand mid-reach, picking up the cutting board. He helps you drop the vegetables into the broth without it splattering on the black hoodie you put on as soon as you got home. “And I do know that, but that doesn’t make them any less smelly.”

He laughs loudly as your phone starts to vibrate on the counter. “Okay, I know we’re roommates and everything, but this all just sounds plain weird,” he returns, putting the cutting board away and grabbing two blocks of uncooked ramen from the counter.

“Weirder than the time you said you wanted to use my bra to fling apples at the pigeon on our balcony?” you shoot back, picking up your phone to turn off the reminder to take your pill. “Hey, have you seen my birth control?”

“I think it’s on the coffee table,” Jungkook replies absently, dropping the ramen into the pot and leaning over to watch the softening noodles dance around in the water. “And for the record, I just said I could definitely hit it, I never said I actually _wanted _to.”

You snort, padding over to the coffee table and snatching the box of pills off of the surface. “You’re just saying that because the pigeon flew away before you could hit it,” you retort, tossing the box up in the air and catching it as you walk back to the kitchen. 

Jungkook simply snorts in reply as you grab a glass from the cupboards above your head, filling it with water.

Silence falls as you throw back the pill and chug the water, grimacing involuntarily as it makes its way down. You subtly glance at Jungkook as you carefully put your glass back down, watching as he stirs the ramen with a pair of chopsticks. He seems to have returned to normal since you got home from work today, the annoyed frown he was still wearing when you walked up the stairs of your apartment building has disappeared.

You clear your throat, crossing your arms and tapping your fingers against your bicep, your curiosity getting the better of you. “So uhm…” you start, walking over to the sink and grabbing the cutting board so you can wash it – in your periphery, you see Jungkook lift his eyes, pausing what he’s doing. “How was your day?”

Jungkook shrugs, turning to focus on the ramen once more. “Fine,” he replies casually. He stares into the pot, slowly stirring.

You turn to look over your shoulder, eyebrows furrowing as hot water runs over the cutting board. “You sure?” you ask _so very subtly,_ turning back to the sink. “You looked kinda annoyed back at the parlour.”

He hums in reply and you fight the urge to turn and look at him again, just to see the expression on his face. “Just tired,” he tells you, sighing deeply. It’s the same casual tone as before, though the explanation at least_ seems_ believable. “Long day.”

You nod slowly, turning off the tap even though you have done nothing to clean the cutting board. “Let’s just watch a movie, then,” you propose, turning around. “Turn that frown upside down.”

He laughs as he glances up at you, shaking his head. “That saying is so last century.”

“And that attitude is _so_ negative,” you shoot back with a grin, walking over to the cupboard right next to his head. Jungkook simply snorts in response, leaning aside so you can open it without giving him a concussion. You stand up on your tiptoes to grab two bowls, steadying yourself by leaning one hand on his thigh. “So what movie are we watching?”

A dramatic gasp rings in your ears as you hold the bowls in your arms, turning around to grab some utensils. “I thought I was banned from picking movies when I made us watch After!” The unfiltered enthusiasm in his voice makes your heart flutter and you can’t help but smile to yourself, biting on your lip.

You shrug as you skip over to the coffee table, simply letting out a laugh. “Yeah, well, you had a long day, so consider this a chance to redeem yourself,” you reply, putting the bowls and utensils on the table. You stack up some papers and envelopes littered over the surface to toss them to the floor. “I might die if it’s another Wattpad movie, but I guess that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“I’m so touched,” Jungkook says through a laugh – just as you pick up an envelope with a familiar company logo stamped on the front.

A grin teases over your lips and you whirl around to face him, holding the letter up triumphantly. “Well, well, well, would you look at that,” you say, wiggling the envelope at him. “The quarterly report on Jeon Jungkook and all that is wrong with him.”

He looks up from the pot, his eyes wide and lips parted in surprise – though that is soon replaced by amusement when he actually sees what’s in your hand, and he simply snorts as he turns back to the ramen. “Don’t kid yourself, Y/N, you know that test never comes back positive.”

You grin, shrugging as you rip open the envelope. “Now, now, don’t give up hope, a horndog like you might have caught an STD or two in the past few months.” Of course, you are proven _very_ wrong when you pull out the papers and look at the test results – you huff theatrically and roll your eyes, turning back around and tossing it onto the pile of papers on the ground. “Why even get tested if you’re gonna turn up clean anyway?” you remark jokingly, neatly setting the bowls on the coffee table and grabbing the remote to turn on the TV.

Jungkook laughs, sliding off the counter. “First of all, that’s the attitude that gets you diagnosed way too late,” he retorts, turning off the stove and stirring the ramen one last time before covering it with a lid. “Besides, it’s just easy. They do tests like that at the place where Christian has us get our blood tests anyway, so I might as well.”

“So responsible,” you reply with an impressed nod, flipping through the homepage to look for Netflix. “Who are you and what have you done to my friend?”

He snorts as he grabs a large coaster and clutches it under his arm. “I’m just trying to set a good example here,” he shoots back, raising an eyebrow as he carefully carries the pot over to the coffee table. “When was the last time you got tested?”

“Last time I got laid,” you reply, sending him a cocky look as you snatch the coaster from underneath his arm. “And _for the fucking record_, I was clean,” you add, pointedly tossing the coaster to the table.

He grins as he puts the pot down, falling back onto the couch. “So it’s working,” is all he gets from that. You huff, thrusting the remote into his direction as you plop down next to him. “I should tell Christian his hardassery is paying off.”

You snort, lightly hitting him in the leg. “First of all, why the fuck would you ever talk about _my_ STD situation with your boss?” you start. You don’t wait for an answer before you add, “And secondly, speaking of Christian…” You sigh softly, leaning back into the couch and leaving the ramen for what it is. You let Jungkook sift through the entire Netflix collection as you stare at the wall behind the TV. “He’s working tomorrow, right?”

Jungkook lets out an annoyed breath, eyes flickering to you as you smile into nothingness. “I’m sure you’ve already figured that out yourself,” he grumbles, looking back at the TV. “Knowing you, you probably wrote it down somewhere.”

You huff at him, narrowing your eyes – he ignores you. “I do _not_ write down when he works and when he doesn’t.” Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you, but you’re insistent. “Honestly, I just look out the window and see if his bike’s there.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “There we go,” he mutters, flipping through Netflix’s selection of recommended romcoms for what feels like the third time. “You don’t have to try to hide it with me, Y/N, I already know you’re a horny weirdo.”

Snorting, you sit up and lift the lid off the pot of ramen. “Shut up,” is all you tell him. Honestly, you don’t really care about him thinking this way about you – talking to him about Christian somehow eases your feelings for Jungkook, so you’ll gladly sacrifice your reputation for the coping mechanism. It’s not like he didn’t already know too much about you anyway.

“I just– I don’t get it,” Jungkook says with a shrug, moving over to the search bar to find _Friends_. “He’s just a dude on a motorcycle.”

Without even having touched the ramen, you pointedly slam the lid back onto the pot and turn to him. “Now that’s just an idiotic lie,” you tell him, crossing your arms as he selects a random episode from season 3. “Come on, even you have to admit he’s one of the finest human specimens out there.”

He snorts and shakes his head, tossing the remote onto the couch and slouching into the cushions. He’s blinking slowly, lips pressed into a thin line as he fixes his gaze on the screen – now that he finally gets to take a rest, he suddenly looks as tired as he did back at the parlour.

“Dude, you better answer me if you don’t want me to hold a speech,” you tease, leaning your back against the armrest so you can poke his thigh with your foot – the corners of his lips turn up slightly before he composes himself, pasting on a neutral expression.

“I mean, I guess he’s pretty buff and all, but isn’t that a little cliché?” he says through a sigh, eyes flickering to you before they quickly move back to the TV.

You grin at him, shrugging your shoulders. “Look, I’ll admit that’s what I thought in the beginning,” you reply, ignoring the canned laughter in the background. “But he’s just so nice and fun when you actually talk to him, you know?”

Jungkook laughs a little, slouching further into the couch. “Okay, yeah, I’ll admit he’s a pretty cool dude, but –”

“See? I’m right!” you interject brightly – he narrows your eyes at him and you shrug, sending him a smug smile. “What? You said it yourself.”

“I was just saying I can see why you’d wanna hang out with him,” he shoots back, shaking his head. “It’s the thirsting I don’t get,” he adds in a mutter, planting his feet on the coffee table as he sinks into his hoodie.

“Come on, haven’t you ever wondered what’s underneath those shirts he wears?” you add with a grin, poking him in the thigh yet again. At this point, you’re mostly doing this just to egg Jungkook on – and besides, it’s not like you _don’t_ mean what you’re saying. “If those arms are any indication…” You let out a small sigh, eyes glazing over as you smile up at the ceiling – god, the things you’d do to see what his abs look like. “Like, when and where would I need to be to see him take those off?”

“Maybe his apartment when he’s taking a shower,” Jungkook retorts dryly. His eyes are fixed on the screen, his lips curling down. “I don’t know what you think happens at a tattoo parlour, but taking your clothes off isn’t exactly part of the job.”

“I just…” You exhale dreamily, shrugging. “I have no idea how you work with him without drooling all the fucking time,” you continue, subtly shaking your head. “Seriously, those arms?”

“Are you seriously asking if I’m attracted to my fucking _boss_?”

He all but sneers the words at you but you don’t quite notice his sudden outburst, still too busy staring at the ceiling and conjuring up the image of Christian just… walking around in the parlour, smiling, laughing, _being so fucking pretty_. “Admit it, he’s a hot piece of ass.”

“I get it, okay?” he huffs, practically grinding his teeth. “You think he’s hot and you wanna make out with him. I don’t need to hear more of your thirsting.”

You hum, slowly shaking your head as you sink further into the couch, burying your chin into your hoodie. “I don’t _just_ wanna make out with him, Kook,” you correct, continuing to shake your head. “I want him to –”

“Alright, I said I got it,” he snaps and you jump, his voice a little louder than you expected it to be. “I’ve heard you moaning his name when you’re getting yourself off at night, Y/N, I know how you feel about him.”

Your head jolts up, your mouth snaps shut as the words hit you like a punch to the gut, so hard they knock the wind out of you. Your eyes are wide, your mouth falls open as you try to come up with something to say – but your mind just _blanks_. _He– what?_

You thought you’d been so quiet about it. Admittedly, you can’t exactly avoid the heavy breathing, but it’s not like you’ve just been moaning at the top of your lungs all this time. You held back as much as you could and _he still fucking heard you._

“Y-you– you what?” you blurt out breathlessly, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as his eyes catch yours – he’s frowning, his stare almost unforgiving. Like you should be apologising here.

He snorts, his tongue poking into his cheek. “Who the fuck do you think you’ve been sharing a wall with all these months?” he simply replies, cocking an eyebrow when you let out a choked sound.

Your cheeks are burning even hotter now, your heart starts to race. You’ve talked about sex with him before, but this– it seems a little _too_ intimate. He knows what your _moans _sound like, for fuck’s sake.

Rendered speechless, you stare at him, eyes flickering down to his pursed lips. When they move back up to his eyes, they seem… different. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but they seem darker, more fiery – he’s never looked at you like that before, and it makes you want to squirm.

He tilts his head, seems to scan your face for the briefest moment, almost like he’s looking for something. His eyebrows furrow subtly, his jaw tenses before he speaks once more – “It’s kinda hard to fall asleep when the girl you’ve been crushing on for years is moaning some other guy’s name, you know.”

A sharp breath is forced from your lungs and your jaw goes slack, your eyes growing as wide as saucers as your heart beats almost painfully hard against your ribs. _Crush? Did he just say _crush_? Does this mean–_

Your blood rushes in your ears, your breathing grows shallow. You can barely wrap your head around it. In all your years of staring at him from afar, all the times you’d wished for something to happen, all the times you’d looked at him and your heart had skipped a beat because of your fucking _stupid, annoying crush_ – you’d never imagined him to ever say _that_. You never even thought he’d see you as anything other than a friend.

You shift in your seat, goosebumps prickle at your skin. From one second to another, the long-suppressed urge to kiss him, to hold him, to tell him you love him morphs into something more, something unnervingly darker. “Oh,” you squeak weakly, starting to feel sweaty.

Jungkook seems to notice _something_ – his eyes narrow for a split second before he composes himself, lets out a slow breath. His cheeks are dusted pink, the rise and fall of his chest is erratic. He bites down on his lip as he nods lightly, hums so softly that you barely hear it over your heart beating in your ears.

His eyes rake over your face, as if he’s looking for something again. You have no idea how to respond, what he wants to know. You just feel your whole body starting to burn up, though the embarrassment you’d felt about him hearing you seems to have nothing to do with it this time.

“I’d be lying if I said I never thought of joining you in there.”

His words creep up on you, they slither in shivers up your spine and make you fidget in your seat. Your heart is racing a million miles a minute, and you don’t know what to do, what to say. You look at him, trying to read the heavy look in his eyes. Static electricity charges the air, so much so that you can almost taste it. It feels alive, dangerous. Something that feels a lot like adrenaline shoots through your veins, your body grows hotter still.

You’ll admit you’ve thought about it – but your mind usually goes to images of cute dates and _kind of_ innocent makeouts in bed on lazy Sunday mornings. Not to mention, you’ve always thought he was _too_ out of your league. That he’d never go for you anyway. It’s all it’s ever been to you – pure fiction, mere daydreams.

But now that you’re here, now that it all seems to be coming alive, you can’t help yourself– “Then why didn’t you ever do it?”

You feel your eyes widen just as much as his and you have to fight the urge to gasp. Nerves bubble low in your belly, your lips part as you shakily breathe out. _Did you really just…?_

Jungkook runs his tongue over his bottom lip and you can’t help but stare, watch as it slowly moves across his mouth, leaving his lips shiny and looking absolutely _delectable_. “Would you have wanted me to?” His voice is low and soft and gentle, almost fragile, yet it almost makes you choke on air. _Yes, god, yes_.

You can only get yourself to hum quietly – and even _that_ sounds high-pitched, uneven, squeaky.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow – it’s not good enough. But_ you want this, you want him so fucking bad _– and you nod, head bobbing almost frantically as you stare at him. He lets out a sharp breath, his eyes darken, he exhales a soft _fuck_. For a second, you have no idea what he’s going to do next, if he’s even going to do anything at all.

He jerks forward in a sudden move that brings him closer to you, and he stops just as suddenly, almost like he catches himself mid-thought. He’s so close now, though– _so close_. Close enough for you to feel the searing heat of his body seep into your skin where your knees knock together; close enough for his breath to mingle with yours in the scant inch that separates you. There’s something heavy in the air around you, it’s palpable and thick like syrup. You breathe hard, searching his face, hoping against hope that he’ll kiss you.

He bites his lip and your heart stutters as you follow the motion, watching the way his plush bottom lip is pulled between his teeth and is slowly let go, a little redder than before. A shaky breath whispers out of you as you drag your eyes up, over the slope of his nose, finding his eyes already staring back at you and for a second, your heart slows to a stop. A beat, then another– then suddenly, like the crashing of waves against the shore, his lips are on yours.

His mouth is hot against yours and you pant into his mouth, your fingers tangling into his hair, your other hand gripping his neck to pull him close. It all feels frantic, desperate; you can barely focus on anything but the way his warm hands glide over your body, trace the outlines of your waist and your hips and your legs, like he’s trying to touch every inch of you all at once, and his fingers leave a searing heat in its wake. His chest presses against yours, pushes you down to the armrest of the couch as he licks into your mouth, breathes you in.

His hand runs over your chest, his thumb brushes over your clothed nipple but even the light touch makes your heart skip a beat, makes a fiery feeling surge through you. You whimper into his mouth.

With a sharp exhale, he leans back slightly, pulls at your bottom lip with his teeth and you breathe out yet another soft whimper. “You really want me, huh?” he mutters softly, almost breathlessly.

You can barely hear him, sighing softly when his fingers play with the hem of your shirt and run over your bare skin, his fingers light on your stomach. Still, you make out the way his words almost tremble with amazement, and your heart flutters at the thought.

You hum and nod frantically, reaching up to press your lips to his. He smirks against your mouth, and the small gesture seems to break the seriousness of it all, at least enough for you to say, “I thought that would’ve been clear by now.”

He laughs lowly, his lips starting to trail down your neck, slow, steady, breathy. It sends a wave of heat down your spine and you squirm, feeling it pool between your thighs. “Well, since you were rambling about some other guy just now…” he mumbles into your skin, rolling his hips down. You moan softly when the bulge of his cock brushes your clothed clit, and you can feel him grin against your collarbone.

You grind your hips up and Jungkook curses under his breath. You feel his cock harden, thickening against the denim of his pants and it’s your turn to grin. A strange sense of pride shoots through you and you wrap your legs around his waist, rubbing your core up against him just to help the process along. He moans and your grin widens. “Don’t fucking care about him, Kook,” you shoot back through a sigh.

He breathes out a laugh, nuzzling his nose into the nape of your neck. “That so?” he mutters, teeth nipping your skin before he runs his hot tongue over it. You’re sure there’s a note of something genuinely vulnerable underneath his cocky tone. But the thought drowns as Jungkook breathes against your skin and shivers race down your body.

Your eyes flutter closed at the sensation and you moan softly, rocking up your hips against his once more – but before you can do too much, he puts a warm hand on your belly and abruptly pushes you back down to the couch. You draw in a sharp breath in response, your body feels like it’s burning up, aching for him to_ go lower, lower, lower_.

Those thoughts quickly fade when he pulls up your shirt just slightly, leaving your stomach exposed to his soft lips, his wet tongue, his nimble fingers. He teases you in maddening motions, playing with the edge of your shirt, hesitating to pull it off. He moves back up, presses searing kisses into your collarbones and his hand cups your breast over the thin material of your bra. Your heart stutters and your fingers tighten in his hair as you look at him.

A beat passes between you. You shift, lift your back off the couch, and slowly pull your shirt over your head. Jungkook’s breath fills your apartment, the sound overtakes the TV show still playing in the background, one of the actors yells out but it sounds muted. It’s as though you can’t focus on anything but _Jungkook_, like his presence envelops you completely. You slowly drop your shirt, letting it rustle to the floor. Jungkook’s fingers flex imperceptibly when you pull him close again. He follows your lead, lets you guide him until his lips find yours and he kisses you again. There’s something addictive about the taste of him, the feel of his body pressed so close to yours. You can’t even begin to remember how many times you’ve thought about this, how many times you’ve dreamed of the solid way he feels, like when he cuddles you on movie nights. All of that is pressed against you now, and you can feel every part of him like this, the strong lines of his shoulders, the taut planes of his stomach, the hard ridge of his cock. You make a choked sound as you feel him pressing against your thigh, and Jungkook groans.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispers almost dazedly, as his fingers brush in fleeting whispers across the heated skin of your stomach, your muscles tensing involuntarily under his touch. Your fingers wander under the collar of his shirt, running over his soft, warm skin and you whine when the fabric keeps you from going further. Jungkook smiles against your lips, and you melt a little against him. 

“Shut up,” you mumble but it’s too late and your lips are already pulling into a smile.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you and you lightly shove his shoulder. He simply smirks softly, pulls you into another kiss. The strap of your bra slips down your shoulder and before you can reach up to adjust it, Jungkook slowly drags it all the way down until it brushes uselessly against your arm. Slowly, he pulls down the other one too, and your breath comes out aborted, shaky. It feels important somehow, momentous almost. _Jungkook_ is pulling the straps of your bra down. It feels _unreal_, difficult to grasp. 

“Can I –” he rasps, clears his throat and starts again, “Can I take it off?” he asks quietly, it sounds shy and wary.

You nod softly, ignoring the incessant pounding of your heart against your ribs. You lean forward, giving him easier access to the clasps on your back. Jungkook leans in, the soapy soft smell of him fills your nose and you sigh, smiling softly. You’re so fucking comfortable around him, and yet so _fucking_ nervous.

The clasp comes undone and Jungkook works your bra off you, lets it fall onto the crumpled pile of your shirt and you exhale. For a second, he simply looks at you, like he’s trying to read you and you offer him a smile. You brush your lips against his and sigh again when his tongue licks your bottom lip. You fall so easily into his kisses, his touches feel so natural against your skin as they sear through you. He kisses your jaw, mouths at the sensitive spot under it and you whine a little. Waves of goosebumps roll over your skin as he kisses his way down, over your neck, down to your collarbone, his fingers tracing figures over your skin. He’s slow, _so fucking slow_ and you're growing impatient – but you keep the thought to yourself as he sucks a hickey right underneath your collarbone, smooths over the heated skin with his tongue and kissing it before he moves down, inch by inch. He moves over your breasts, kissing at the sensitive skin underneath them and your fingers pull at the fabric of his hoodie. 

His fingers dig into your hips, keeping you pressed against the couch and you whimper. “Kook…” you exhale, lifting your head to look down at him – his eyes are already on you, a sly, lazy grin curling at his lips as he presses a kiss right above your navel.

“Yeah?” he replies. His voice is soft and a little hoarse, it almost makes you melt then and there. You tug at the collar of his hoodie, trying unsuccessfully to pull it over his head. There’s an itch under your skin, a need to feel his skin against yours, to feel _him_. He smirks at you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes, huffing at him. He sits up nevertheless, works the sleeves off and slowly pulls it off completely and you take a second to take him in.

There’s something golden about Jungkook, as if his skin has taken on a little bit of sunshine and trapped it just under the surface. The swirling patterns of his tattoos blend into his skin and your fingers trace over the designs. He leans forward again, his nose brushes against your temple as you explore the planes of his stomach. The muscles jerk under your touch and grin slightly as you slowly inch up his chest. His lips brush against your jaw and press a path of kisses down your neck. The metal of his piercings feels so at odds with the smooth, warm feel of his skin. You brush your fingers over them and he groans, burying his face against your neck. He sucks a hickey into your skin, worries the same spot with his teeth before soothing the tight feeling with tender touches.

You squirm underneath him and whimper once more, breathing out sharply when he moves even further down, pressing slow and deliberate kisses just above the waistband of your sweatpants. Your fingers tighten on his shoulders, pressing into the muscles. His lips are warm and wet and your mind grows hazy as he just keeps teasing, keeps hinting at what might come, never _actually _doing it.

He toys with the strings of your sweats, and he curls them around his index, tugs at them, slowly pulls them out of their knot – his other hand moves up your belly to stop just underneath your midriff, the way his fingers press into your skin almost feels possessive and it’s absolutely_ exhilarating_.

“Please,” you huff, struggling to find the words to tell him what you want. He smirks against your skin, lets his teeth graze over it, and you’re starting to think he actually planned on reducing you to this desperate, bumbling mess of a human all along. Your panties are wet, they stick to you almost uncomfortably. Your cheeks flush with the heat rushing through your veins, but any inhibitions you might have had about it simply disappear when he looks up at you.

His eyes are blown out, his hair dishevelled, his cheeks almost as pink as his lips. “Please what?” he mutters. His voice is husky, hoarse. It rumbles through you like thunder, pulls a sharp breath from your lungs. It’s like he’s used to talking to you like this, to kissing you and touching you and _teasing_ you – like this is nothing new.

It all helps in easing your nerves, silences the voice in the back of your mind screaming at you to _snap out of whatever dream this is._ You’re simply left with a racing heart and a growing _need_– for his lips, his fingers, his cock, for _him_. “Please,” you exhale, breathing growing heavier, more heat pooling between your thighs. “Fuck, Jungkook, please touch me.”

He breathes out a laugh and lets his face fall forward, his nose pressing against your pubic bone. His shoulders slot between your thighs, pushing them apart. His hair brushes over your stomach, his warm breath seeps through your sweats and sends a shiver down your spine – _so close_…

You’re about to whine at him for making you wait even longer, but your words die in your throat when you hear him curse underneath his breath and mutter, “You have no idea how fucking long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”

You bite your lip and bury your face into your arm, laughing softly. You’re sure it does nothing to hide the embarrassment that radiates off of you in waves, nor does it cover up the stupidly wide smile that breaks out.

“This is no laughing matter, sweetheart,” Jungkook hums and you lift your arm to look at him – he can barely hold back his own chuckle, and it only makes your smile grow wider.

“I’m sure it’s not,” you return, making no effort in trying to sound convincing.

Jungkook laughs, subtly shaking his head as his fingers curl around the waistband of your sweats. You bite your tongue in an attempt to keep a straight face, though you’re sure he can hear your breath hitch in your throat. “I can’t believe this,” he mutters, raising an eyebrow as he slowly starts to pull your pants down. A small, amused smile curls at his lips as he looks up at you, his eyes twinkling even in the low living room lights. “Making fun of me when I’m trying to get you off here.”

Your heart skips a beat as he slowly pulls down your sweats, taking your panties along with them. The soft fabric brushes against your skin, his warm fingers trail right behind, leaving a tingling feeling in their wake. _This is happening._ Instead of the nerves you expect, you only feel a jolt of arousal shooting through you. “I mean, if you can’t handle it…” you return, smiling back at him.

He scoffs, his eyes glued to yours as he tugs your bottoms off your legs, tosses them aside. “Believe me, no amount of laughing is gonna stop me from enjoying this,” he returns, tearing his gaze away from you. “I’ve waited way too fucking long.” He leans down to press a kiss to your lower belly, his warm hands pushing your thighs apart – your heart starts to race, your cheeks flush as his thumbs stroke lazy circles into your skin.

Rather than feeling jittery, rather than wanting to snap your legs closed again and curl up into a ball because _this is Jungkook_, the way his warm breath ghosts over your skin, the way his soft lips trail down ever so slowly only relax you. A soft sigh escaping your lips, you lean your head against the backrest of the couch. You can still barely wrap your head around all of it, around the fact that he actually wants you as much as you want him. A giddy smile breaks out and you close your eyes. “You’re cute,” you blurt out lowly, not even realising that you’ve said it out loud until Jungkook’s head shoots up.

“_Cute_?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow. “Christian Yu cute?”

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh, shrugging. “Jeon Jungkook cute,” you reply instead, fighting a giggle when he narrows his eyes at you.

“I don’t even know what that means,” he huffs, his hand is inching towards your core and you’re all too aware of it, almost so focused on the heat that pools underneath his touch that you barely register his words. “Is that an insult? Are you insulting me _now_?”

He’s clearly joking – the grin on his face is a dead giveaway. But his words shake you awake regardless and you laugh, shaking your head as you reach down to run a hand through his hair. “It means I think you’re cute, that’s what it means,” you reply, watching as his hair escapes from in between your fingers and falls back to frame his face.

He huffs yet again, though says nothing. Instead, he keeps his eyes locked with yours as he brings his face down until he’s level with your pussy, and slowly, oh so slowly licks over your slit, his warm tongue gliding from your entrance to your clit, flicking it just once before he pulls away. You sigh at the wave of satisfaction that crashes over you, eyes fluttering closed as your hand falls back to your side.

“Still just cute?” he mumbles, thumb running just along the apex of your thigh, _so close_ that you clench around absolutely nothing, desperate to feel his touch again.

He doesn’t give you what you want, however, simply remaining silent; he’s waiting for an answer. “Would I be here if I didn’t think you were a hot piece of ass?” you all but whine as you look up at him once more, lips curling down into a scowl.

Jungkook laughs, there’s a glimmer of smugness in his eyes. “Now there’s a compliment,” he replies, snickering when you huff at him – but your anger melts away as soon as he runs his thumb over your clit, even the brief touch sending a shiver of electricity up your spine.

He hums, running his thumb further down, swiping through the wetness already pooling at your entrance. Your eyes close and your head drops against the backrest of the couch once more, hips unconsciously bucking up into his hand. “So wet for me already,” he mutters lowly, taking your clit between his lips and running his tongue over it – heat spreads through your body and a moan escapes you, the lightest of whispers of his name rolls off your lips. “So needy, too...” he almost groans, his hot breath fanning over your skin and making you shiver yet again.

You nod slowly, your mind too hazy to make a snarky remark. “Jungkook…” you whimper, squirming underneath him, lifting your hips so he might touch you again – but he leans back instead, and you let out a frustrated groan.

“I’ll bet Christian couldn’t make you this fucking messy even if he tried,” he says, his voice a low hum in your ears. There’s a hint of something dark to his voice, an edge of something you can’t quite put your finger on – but you don’t care to think about it for long, too immersed in this feeling of complete and utter _need_ for him, for his fingers, for his tongue, for _anything_. You’ve forgotten pretty much everything else around you; the way your spine bends awkwardly to accommodate your position on the couch, the ramen on the coffee table that’s slowly going cold, who the hell Christian even is.

“Fuck, Jungkook, please…” you breathe out. You bury your face into the couch to suppress a desperate moan, though you’re sure your squirming hips give away more than enough. “Please just –”

Your words go lost in a choked breath when he runs his tongue over your clit again, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine. “This what you want?” he rasps, his breath ghosts over your core and it feels like his warmth spreads through your entire body. “Want me to lick your soaking little pussy?”

Your breath comes out in a high-pitched whine and you nod frantically, your clit starting to throb with need – his lips are so close that you can practically feel them brushing over you, that you can _almost_ feel his warm tongue on you. “Jesus fuck, _yes_, Jungkook, do you need me to spell it out for you?” you huff, opening your eyes to glare at him. _Big mistake_ – the smirk curling at his lips hits you hard now that his face is literally _inches_ away from your core, and the smugness written all over his features sends almost violent tingles down your spine.

“Not really,” he returns as he keeps his eyes locked with yours, his fingers digging into your hips, you tense in anticipation. “But desperation’s just so hot on you.”

Your lips part and you’re about to return something snappy, just to take him down a peg – when he finally leans back in, his mouth closes around your clit, the tip of his tongue runs over it yet again. He _finally_ keeps moving this time and shivers of heat run from your core to your thighs, your torso, your arms, up to your fingers and toes, your head spins. Your eyes squeeze shut as you moan out again, hands patting the couch for _something_ to hold onto because you might just fall into the abyss otherwise – your fingers find his hair and grip it, tighten into fists as he easily slips one, two fingers inside of you and curls them _just right_…

He hums against your clit when your fingers graze his scalp, the vibrations reverberate through your core and you moan again. Your legs jerk a little, spasming against his shoulders. They barely budge, forcing you to stay completely exposed to him. He pulls back briefly and you whine – he chuckles, runs his tongue around your clit as his free hand reaches up to play with your nipples, rolls them between his fingers. Small sparks of electricity shoot through you, add to the fire balling up in your gut, growing closer and closer to burning through you entirely.

He wraps his lips around your clit once again and sucks, licks it as his fingers rub against your walls, and your toes curl in response. The fire grows hotter and hotter, you come _so close_ to release that you can practically _taste_ the electric pleasure on your tongue. Your breathing grows ragged, your moans grow louder and more frantic, your fingers tighten in his hair as he pinches your nipple once again, sends yet another jolt through you, and you clench around his fingers. Your hand in his tightens around his long curls as your legs strain around his shoulders.

His chuckle rings in your ears and he pauses. Your eyebrows draw together in confusion, your grip around his hair loosens. _Fuck, just another second._ “Bet Christian couldn’t make you feel this good,” he mutters as you lift your head to look at him, and your lips part in surprise. “Bet he could never make you moan like this.”

Maybe it’s the frustration from feeling your orgasm ebbing away from you so quickly, maybe it’s the haze in your mind that clears up _just_ enough for you to return back to earth, maybe it’s something else entirely – but you grin at him, shrugging innocently. “I don’t know, Kook, maybe he could.”

He raises an eyebrow, rubs his thumb over your clit as his fingers slowly slip out of you. Your thighs tense, you bite down on your tongue to keep yourself from moaning. “You think so?” he wonders aloud as he tilts his head, his warm hands languidly slide up your sides, his fingers leaving behind a trail of your own cum in their wake.

You bite down harder as you suppress a shiver, as you try not to whimper at the way his touch makes your skin tingle. “I wouldn’t know, would I?” you shoot back, taking in a sharp breath when he sits up, leaving your pussy for what it is – _wait, did you seriously scare him off?_

His hands trail up your arms, pulls them up over your head and you follow his lead without protest, simply staring up into his eyes as he moves his face up to yours. “You sure have imagined it plenty of times, haven’t you?” he returns, tilting his head at you – a small smirk curls at his lips and you narrow your eyes. He’s just egging you on, teasing you, undoubtedly trying to make you beg for him. _The fucker._ “Fantasising about fucking your roommate’s boss like a horny little slut…” he whispers in your ear, teeth nipping at your earlobe as he reaches up, holds your wrists together with one hand. The other caresses your chest, brushing over your nipples but never lingering for too long. Your cheeks heat up as your eyes flutter closed, your heart beating fast. His taunt stomach brushes against yours with every little movement he makes, it’s maddening friction that’s just enough to tease you.

Your thighs clench together instinctively and you let out a sharp breath at the brief relief it provides – the fire kindling low in your belly returns all too soon and you squirm underneath him.

He simply laughs, trails his lips down until they press to your pulse point, and he licks the skin as your heart races. You want to feel those lips on yours again, you want to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close, to feel his cock inside of you, to hear his moans and groans echoing in your ears– but Jungkook keeps you in place, leaves you powerless, any semblance of rebellion you had left inside of you dissipates. “Kook, I want you, please…” you whimper and his fingers tighten around your wrists.

“You already have me,” he replies through a chuckle, lifting his head to look at you. He cups your face in one hand, his thumb runs over your bottom lip and his smile widens. “So you’ve gotta be a little more specific here, babe.”

If you’d had some fighting spirit left, you might have glared at him and told him to _figure it out yourself, you idiot_, but you’re just too impatient, the throbbing between your thighs is too painful for you to draw this out any longer. “Please, I wanna feel your cock inside of me,” you breathe out, your voice hoarse.

A wide smirk teases over his lips and his tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek. “Do you, now?” he inquires, thumb lazily dragging down your chin and back up to your mouth.

You nod frantically, rolling your hips up for good measure – heat courses through your veins when your clit brushes against his hard cock. You look up into his dark eyes, finding dilated pupils staring back at you. “Please, _please_, fuck me please,” you blurt out, breathing heavy, heart hammering in your chest. “Kook,” you add in a whimper, eyes wide as you stare up at him.

His smile widens and you swear his features soften subtly, the edge of smugness seems to dissipate. “Desperation _so_ looks hot on you,” he mumbles, and before you can reply, his lips crash on yours, and he lets go of your wrists to allow you to wrap your arms around his neck. _God,_ you thought you remembered how good his mouth felt on yours, but no memory compares to the real thing, to the exhilaration that surges through you as he licks into your mouth. You arch up against him, he swallows your heavy breaths and whimpers.

He somehow gets rid of his bottoms and tosses them aside as he presses erratic kisses to your mouth, your nose, your cheek, his bare thighs press against yours. You breathe out sharply when you tilt your hips up, your clit rubbing against his hard cock – you don’t have to tell him how fucking _wet_ you are.

His lips pull away from you and you try to chase them for a moment, though one simple push against your jaw makes you lean back. You stare up into his eyes and let out a soft breath. His lips are red and slightly swollen, his hair is an absolute mess, his cheeks are flushed, his inked shoulders heaving. A small smile breaks out and you bite your lip as his eyes trail down, his hand slowly moves from your jaw over your throat, your chest, your stomach…

“You’re so fucking pretty, did you know that?” he mumbles, his eyes still cast downward as his fingers trace a circle around your navel.

Warmth spreads through you and you rest your head against the couch, blinking slowly as his fingers trail further down, _so close_… “Oh, I’m sure that’s just the desperation,” you return with a dazed, almost dreamy smile.

He laughs softly, looking up at you from underneath his lashes as his finger brushes ever so lightly over your clit, sending an equally light tingle through your core. Nevertheless, it makes your eyes flutter closed as you let out a soft sigh – you feel like you’re melting into the couch. “Pretty sure it’s just you, but I guess we can negotiate later.”

You can’t help but laugh and you open your eyes, reaching up to trail your fingers over his chest. “Just fuck me, you nerd,” you huff, absently tracing the outlines of his abs with the tip of your index, his muscles tensing underneath his skin.

He grins. “As you wish, princess,” he replies softly, head dipping back down to kiss you before you can even ask if he meant to make that _Princess Bride_ reference. In fact, the thought disappears from your mind as quickly as it popped up. You’re too distracted by the way Jungkook’s teeth tug at your bottom lip, his thumb lazily, sloppily rubbing your clit to keep your entire body tense and heated, as he slowly moves your body down the couch so that your head rests comfortably against the armrest–

His thumb disappears, and suddenly the velvety head of his cock runs over your pussy, moves up from your entrance to press to your clit – you sigh into his mouth, instinctively lifting your hips. Your muscles tighten with anticipation and you kiss him harder, more eagerly, hoping to get the message across without having to say it.

His cock circles back to your entrance, gathers up some of the wetness that’s been pooling there, his free hand rests on the small of your back as he sucks on your bottom lip – and just as he lets go of it, he sinks into you.

You let out a moan of satisfaction as he does the same, resting his forehead against yours, you share a breath. He fits inside of you so _fucking _well, stretches you out _just_ perfectly, drags against your walls as he stills inside of you, he breathes heavily. His fingers press into your back, push your hips up against his so he can go just an inch deeper. He bottoms out, _finally_, and for a moment everything stills. The only sound is the erratic beating of your heart as you slowly get used to the wonderful feeling of Jungkook filling you perfectly. At an agonising pace, he starts thrusting, in and out, slow and slower until you swear you can feel every single ridge of his cock against you. You rub your nose against his, press a kiss to his lips – he pulls back, pushes back in, excruciatingly slowly.

“_Fuck_,” he mutters under his breath as he does it again, groans out as he goes faster and faster, slowly speeding up until he’s fully thrusting in and out of you, rubs against the nerves inside of you to send a searing heat through you. “_Fuck_, you feel so fucking good,” he groans. He buries his face into your neck, his sharp breaths fan over your skin and send waves of goosebumps over your skin.

You all but moan out in reply, your fingers tangling in his hair as he thrusts and rolls his hips, his groin pressing to your clit to send electric bursts of pleasure through your core. “Fuck, Jungkook…” you groan, lips parted as you breathe heavily. He trails open-mouthed kisses down your neck, your chest, gently biting your nipple to pull yet another moan out of you. His fingers dig into your hips as he pulls you to him in time with his thrusts, makes each one go deeper than you thought he could go.

“I’ll bet Christian couldn’t fuck you like this, hm?” he mutters suddenly, his voice almost sounds like a growl. You don’t reply at first – he sinks his teeth into your nipple once more and you jump at the sudden sting of pain, quickly soothed by his soft lips and warm tongue. “Bet his cock couldn’t fill you up this well, make you feel this fucking good…”

The words are a low hum in your ear, your mind so distracted by his cock, his thumb running over your clit, his mouth on your chest that you barely register what he’s saying. And once you finally do, you simply moan out, nodding frantically in agreement. You honestly can’t imagine anything feeling as good as the way Jungkook is making you feel right now – it’s sweaty, breathy, messy, it’s _intense_, and yet you still want _more, more, more_.

“Yes, Kook, fuck…” you breathe, still nodding your head. Jungkook smirks against your skin, his tongue running over your sensitive nipple to pull a whine from your lips. The blunt head of his cock presses against your g-spot with every unnervingly accurate thrust. Your hands run down the length of his back and when he thrusts into you again, you dig your nails into his skin slightly. You whimper and Jungkook moans against your breast. The vibrations travel like lightning through your body, pooling low in your belly. 

He rubs your clit faster, his thrusts speed up so that you barely have the time to breathe in between each one, and you’re so far gone that you can only feel your climax coming when it’s about to hit you. “Oh my god, fuck, I’m– I’m gonna –” you pant, your spine arching up against him, eyes squeezing closed as your body tenses up like a rubber band being stretched to its absolute limit, braces itself. Jungkook’s groans grow louder, he noses the nape of your neck as his breathing grows ragged, his thrusts sloppier. His chest rubs against yours with every move and the metal of his piercings rubs against your breasts and you push up against him, you want _more_. He messily rubs your clit, your fingers dig into his shoulders as your muscles go tenser still–

“Come for me, Y/N,” he breathes against your skin, his voice rough around the edges. The words hit you at the same time as his thumb rubs your clit at just the right angle in just the right way, and something inside of you _snaps_.

Your orgasm burns through you, sizzles at your skin. Waves of tingles spread through your muscles, making you moan and writhe underneath Jungkook as he keeps rubbing your clit, keeps fucking into you as he chases his own climax. You clench around his cock and it only sends aftershocks of pleasure through you, keeps you moaning even as you slump against the couch, melting into the soft cushions, your eyes firmly shut – Jungkook lets out a choked groan as his hips stutter, and he thrusts into you _hard_, pulling a surprised moan from your lips.

His face presses into your shoulder as he comes, his hair brushes your bare skin as he groans against your collarbone. You loosely run your fingers through his hair as he thrusts into you, sloppily rides out his orgasm, a feeling of satisfaction rushing through you as his moans ring in your ears. He slumps right on top of you, his hands loosen their grip around your hips and he simply wraps his arms around your torso instead.

His skin is warm against yours and you sigh softly, absently playing with his hair. The two of you fall silent, your heavy breaths mingle together. Your eyes flutter closed, canned laughter from the TV abruptly breaks the languid silence that has fallen over you in the wake of your orgasm. You groan softly as you shift, and Jungkook kisses your neck lightly. You let your nose run against his jaw and when he sighs, almost as if it calms him, pressure unwinds in your chest.

It takes both of you a minute to flutter back down to earth, and Jungkook eventually helps you sit up into his lap, your arms still tight around his neck because he’s so warm and soft and you _never want to let go_. The adrenaline and euphoria of the moment start to wear off and leaves you tired and fuzzy, but more content than you’ve felt in years.

Jungkook softly kisses your collarbone, letting out another soft sigh. A smile teases over your lips in response and you lean your head on his shoulder, gently tracing the swirling patterns of his tattoos with your index.

“Kook,” you eventually mumble, your voice feels a little raspy.

“Hm?” he hums against your skin, his thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles into your back.

Your hand trails over his nipples, you marvel at the silver jewels in them. Your fingers travel up, over his shoulders, splaying out over his bare back as you blink slowly, breathing in his homely scent. “You should’ve joined me sooner.”

He laughs softly and presses a kiss to your temple, his hand running down your back. “I’ll keep it in mind for next time,” he says through a chuckle.

You grin and nod, kissing his neck – _guess this isn’t a one-time thing_. A warm feeling spreads through your chest at the thought and your arms tighten around him, a soft sigh escapes your nose.

Another minute of silence passes before Jungkook clears his throat. He shifts in his spot, pulls you out of your tired daze. “Okay, I don’t wanna ruin the mood or anything, but how the _fuck_ do I pull out without staining the couch?”

* * *

You wake up to Jungkook’s voice the next morning. The covers wrap around you to provide a comforting warmth, and there seems to be a permanent smile curling at your lips. You silently listen to Jungkook as he sings, his voice echoing through the apartment and drifting in through the bedroom door. Sighing in content, your nose into the duvet. It smells like him, and you don’t even have to open your eyes to remember that you stayed in his bed last night, fell asleep with his arms pulling you close, his nose nuzzling into your neck as his breath ghosted over your skin.

_So _that_ happened._

With a soft sigh, you reluctantly roll out of bed – it’s almost as if Jungkook’s voice just pulls you towards him, motivates you to walk over to the kitchen and hear it up close. Jumping to your feet, you pull at the hoodie you’re wearing. It’s big, though barely falls below your upper thighs, and you can tell it’s Jungkook’s – were you really _so_ tired you couldn’t just skip over to your room and grab some normal pyjamas?

Running a hand through your hair, you push the door open and step out into the living room, practically skipping over to the kitchen – your heart skips a beat when you spot Jungkook still singing to himself, back turned to you as he stirs some eggs in a pan. An oversized grey shirt hangs off his torso and fall over his boxers, almost making it look like he isn’t wearing any pants at all. It’s a familiar sight – but it still feels different somehow, and happiness bubbles in your chest.

His hair is a complete mess but he doesn’t seem to care, his voice lowering to a hum as he snatches the carton box of eggs off the counter and tosses it back into the fridge – he still hasn’t caught you.

You wait until he’s back in front of the stove before you move. You slowly tiptoe over to him, your bare feet silent against the wooden floor as he picks up the pan and takes it off the stove. He scoops the scrambled eggs onto some toast just as you come up behind him, he puts the pan away and your smile widens, you come to a stop and –

“You know, you’re really not that stealthy.”

Your face falls and you scowl at Jungkook, crossing your arms – he turns around just after he tosses his spatula aside, flashes a smile at you and your heart flutters. “What gave it away?” you shoot back, heart starting to race when he takes a step closer, his arms sneaking around your waist.

He grins as he leans closer, your eyes flutter closed in a reflex, arms coming loose to wrap around his neck. Your whole body is burning up; you’re nervous. After everything that happened last night, you’re actually _nervous_. “You closed the door a little too loudly,” he mutters as his nose brushes against yours, _so close_.

_But you can do something about that now, finally._ You grin as you stand up on your tiptoes and press your lips to kiss, slow and chaste, and you still feel like you might as well be floating up into the air. His lips are soft and warm and comforting and oh so _inviting_, his arms eagerly pull you into him and you feel like you’re melting.

“Why did you leave me all alone in your bed?” you mumble, pulling away for only a second to get the words out before you kiss him again.

He smiles, presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Because I wanted to make you breakfast,” he replies. His voice is low and hoarse and it reminds you of the way he’d whispered in your ear just last night – heat settles low in your gut, but you don’t care to act on it. “That hoodie looks good on you, by the way.”

“Right? I borrowed it from my roommate, his style’s pretty good,” you return with a small smile, arms tightening around his neck as he spins you around and settles you on the counter without much of an effort. You land right next to the plates of toast, and you’re glad he hasn’t planted you right on top of them. “And you can just say you were hungry.”

“So what if it was both?” he mumbles, hands leaning on either side of your hips as he rubs his nose against yours, lips just inches away and you’re aching to feel them on yours again. “I can multitask,” he adds, pressing a brief kiss to your lips before he pulls back. “Now, speaking of food, we need to eat these before they go cold.”

You pout at him, eyes flickering down to his lips as he speaks. It’s tempting to lean in and kiss him again, but you’ll surely get another chance. You divert your eyes to the microwave instead, checking the time – 7 AM, plenty of time to get to work before 9. “Wanna get back to bed, or…?” you ask as Jungkook hands you a plate of eggs and toast – he keeps his eyes downcast, and your eyebrows draw together.

“About that…” he starts, his gaze focused on his toast as he turns it around on his plate, most of his face hidden behind his hair. His tone of voice almost scares you – it’s hesitant, insecure, and you suddenly get the icky feeling that you might not be able to kiss him again at all. “I feel like we need to talk,” he finally says, lifting his head to look at you.

Your eyebrows shoot up and you lower your plate into your lap, tilting your head. “Talk?” you ask carefully. “About… about the bed?”

He lets out a soft laugh and it takes some of the tension out of you, though the way he’s avoiding your eyes still makes you wary. “About us.”

Nodding slowly, you put the plate back onto the counter and fold your hands in your lap instead. “Right, yeah,” you mumble, clearing your throat. “So uhm… do you wanna…”

He nods quickly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his hip against the counter. A lock of hair falls in his face and you have to fight the urge to tuck it behind his ear – you feel like you should take it slow for now, let him talk first. “I don’t really know how to put this, so I’ll just –” He pauses, clears his throat, averts his eyes. He picks at the toast, rips off the tiniest piece of crust and nibbles on it for a moment, and your heart starts to beat faster and faster. “Is there more than just sex here?”

You don’t know what you were expecting him to say but it surely wasn’t _that_, and your lips part in surprise. You blink for a second before you compose yourself and you nod frantically, shuffling a little closer to him. “Yes! Yeah, I– definitely,” you breathe out – a small smile breaks out on Jungkook’s face, but he remains silent. “I– yeah.” You take a breath and let it back out in a sigh, trying to calm yourself down because _can you just get one coherent sentence out, please?_ “If you want that too, of course.”

He doesn’t make you wait long for an answer. “Yeah,” he breathes out as he nods, smiles brightly. “I mean… yeah.”

A warm feeling bursts in your chest, spreads through you. It’s new and _weird_, but you like it. You like the way he looks at you, at the way your heart skips a beat when he steps closer, presses a shy kiss to your cheek. You like the way he jumps slightly when you grab his arm and pull him closer to you, you like the warmth his body provides as you press up against his chest to properly kiss him. “So I guess we’re, like… boyfriend and girlfriend now?” you ask cautiously. Even the thought of it brings a smile to your face.

Jungkook laughs brightly, and you almost melt right here in his arms. “I guess we are,” he says. His smile widens and he scrunches his nose, tilts his head at you. “I kinda like it.”

You grin back at him as he kisses the corner of your mouth, his nose nuzzling into your cheek as he laughs again. “Me too,” you say through a sigh.

His fingers start to trace patterns into your bare thighs, sending waves of goosebumps over you. “Hey, are you free this weekend?” he asks. His voice is soft all of a sudden, as if he’s too reluctant to ask.

You nod quickly. “I think so, yeah,” you reply. He smiles when he looks up at you, his hands travelling just inches up your thighs. “Why?”

“Well, now that we’re officially dating,” he starts, shrugging as he removes his hands from your legs – you almost huff at him for it. “You gotta let me take you out on an actual date.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and your lips part, though you can’t help but smile. “Yeah, that sounds nice,” you reply quickly, nodding.

He grins at you, nodding right back as he picks up the plate of lukewarm eggs and toast and holds it out to you. “Now eat your breakfast, girlfriend.”

You suppress the stupidly high-pitched giggle that bubbles in your throat, simply taking the plate from him. “Thank you, boyfriend,” you reply, smiling up at him.

He returns the smile and scrunches his nose again, your heart flutters in response and you quickly take a bite of your food. “We should come up with better pet names, because those are weird as hell,” he remarks just before he starts on his own breakfast.

You laugh through a mouthful of egg and bread, shaking your head as you swallow. Biting on your lip, you stare down at your toast, blinking down at the yellow eggs as you let the thought settle. A _date_. You’re gonna go on a _date_ with him. It’s something you’ve wanted for god knows how long, and now it’s actually _happening_. You bite down on your cheek, a bright grin breaks out.

“What?”

You look up at him, blinking at him as he takes a bite of his toast, his eyebrows raised. “Hm?”

He laughs softly and tilts his head at you. His hair falls into his face but he ignores it, and you reach out to tuck it behind his ear instead. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” you reply, taking another bite of your breakfast. “Just happy.”

He snorts. “You’re cute,” he says, and you can’t help but grin bashfully as you swallow your food.

“Christian Yu cute?” you return with a bright smile.

He narrows his eyes at you, poking your side. “Don’t bully me like this,” he replies, huffing.

You simply laugh in reply, a comfortable silence falls over the two of you. You bite your lip and look down at your breakfast, picking at the crust as you let out a soft sigh. “I was wondering something, though.”

“Spill.”

Lifting your eyes to look at him once more, you give him the most serious look you can manage, going so far as to narrow your eyes – he narrows them right back, clearly having to work to suppress his grin. “What kind of date are you taking me on?”

His shoulders relax and he laughs at you, lowering his toast to pinch your nose. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, turning to walk out of the kitchen and heading to the couch.

You frown at him, sliding off the counter to follow him. “What, so you’re not gonna tell me where we’re going?”

He looks at you over his shoulder and sends you a bright grin. “I said don’t worry about it,” he says, turning back around to look in front of him.

Narrowing your eyes at his back, you jog a few steps to catch up to him. “That’s not an answer, you –”

“Hey, the pigeon’s back!” he exclaims and the rest of your sentence goes lost as your head snaps to the glass doors leading to the balcony.

You blink, frowning at the pigeon hopping around the legs of the flimsy folding chairs. “You’d think he’d never ever come back, considering you threatened to literally knock him off of there last time.”

Jungkook hums, narrowing his eyes at the bird as it hops onto the seat of one of the chairs. It tilts his head at you and blinks, almost as if it’s taunting you. “I bet he saw the eggs and toast,” he says lowly, pointedly taking a bite. You glance aside at him, at the way he wipes his hair out of his eyes and stalks closer to the pigeon – the nerves in your belly die out, and you can only smile.

That is, until he speaks up again – “Hey, give me your bra.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, we hope you liked it!! Let us know what you thought, we’d love to hear from you!! :) You can also let us know if you’d like to be added to the tag list, so that you’re notified as soon as the next part goes up. In the meantime, have a wonderful day/night, and we hope to see you for the next part!!♥


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so the keyboard ran away from us with this one gcfhgvjhb but we hope you enjoy the thirst train’s second stop!!

Jungkook is swinging your arm, skipping slightly as you walk down the street. He smiles brightly, clearly unbothered by the risk of slipping on the thin layer of snow that coats the pavement. You smile to yourself, speeding up slightly to keep up with him.

He’s decided to take you to the ramen place next to Saku for your first date. You bite your lip, your heart beats a little faster – _your first date_. The restaurant has almost become your staple hangout spot for the two of you; you’ve been having lunch there practically every day for the past year. You know it well, and it’s comfortable, familiar. You appreciate Jungkook’s not-so-veiled attempt to dispel the remaining cobwebs of awkwardness that seem to cling to you both; the way you’d collided with one another mere days ago had been more than unusual, and now that the afterglow has worn off, it sticks to your skin like a film. If you try hard enough, you can make yourself ignore it, but it’s there regardless. 

“So…” he starts, and his fingers tighten around yours. Electricity sparks underneath your skin where the pressure of his touch increases.

You smile softly at him. “So…” you copy him and he rolls his eyes at you, the corners of his lips twitching with a smile. A chilly November wind creeps underneath the fabric of your jacket and you shiver. Almost instinctively, you move closer to Jungkook and your arm brushes against his. It’s such a natural, common thing for you, this organic closeness you feel towards him, that it unwinds something tight in your belly. It surprises you, just how nervous you feel about this casual date. You look at Jungkook and can’t help the fond smile at the way he shuffles his long hair out of his eyes.

_This is Jungkook_, you think. _Everything’s okay._

The small ramen shop comes into view as you round a corner, and you see the neon glow of the tattoo parlour’s sign across the street. A decidedly-not-due-to-the-cold shiver runs down your back. You focus on the wooden _RaMen _sign instead.

Jungkook holds open the door for you, his cheeks are flushed from the biting wind and his eyes shine in the low lighting of the small restaurant. The smell of salted broth and cooking noodles welcomes you as soon as you step into the restaurant, the loud chatter of other patrons fills your ears. It’s as though familiarity and comfort settle into your bones and make themselves at home there. You take a deep breath, your pulse slows down and you feel more grounded already.

“Hi, guys!” Namjoon, the owner of the place, greets you as he walks up to you. He raises an eyebrow at your linked hands, and you blush slightly. “Table for two, I assume?”

“Yep!” you say, holding onto Jungkook’s hand when you feel him trying to slip it out of yours. You watch as an endearing blush spreads high on his cheeks. Namjoon smirks at you both and leads you through the packed restaurant to a table next to the window – your usual spot.

“So, he finally got the courage to ask you out, huh?” Namjoon teases as you settle into your seats, shuffling in the tight space. 

You look up at him and smile, nodding quickly. “It’s our first date,” you admit, and your heart pounds when you hear yourself say it. You glance at Jungkook, who smiles at you and nods slowly.

“Only took him, like, half a century,” Namjoon jokes as he hands you a menu.

Jungkook’s smile falls and he huffs instead. “Thanks, man,” he grumbles under his breath as Namjoon winds his way through the tables and finally disappears into the kitchen. You smile at Jungkook, enjoying the way the familiarity of the busy restaurant wraps around you.

You’d feared it would be too weird, to go on a date with him after all this time. But somehow, it feels natural, as though you’ve always done this – and yet, there’s still a remnant of awkwardness that hangs around, there’s a sense of uncertainty about what to say, what to do.

You sigh softly and shift in your seat, your feet bump against Jungkook’s. He looks at you, cheeks still slightly flushed and you grin, bracketing his feet with your own before you can think much about it.

Jungkook smiles back at you, and your shoulders relax softly, tension flows out of your muscles.

Namjoon comes back with a pitcher of water and takes your order. It hasn’t changed since you discovered your favourite type of ramen, and neither has Jungkook’s. But Namjoon seems to enjoy the formality of taking your order every single time. 

“Comin’ right up.” He grins brightly, the dimples in his cheeks pop and he whirls back around, disappears into the kitchen once more. 

Silence falls between you and Jungkook. It’s not _unpleasant_ but it still feels wrong, like a jacket that’s just a little too small. It’s odd, sitting across from Jungkook, your _boyfriend_. You don’t entirely know how to behave, and you can tell from Jungkook’s shifty attitude that he doesn’t either. The fact that you live together, that you’ve been friends so long, seems to have put a distance between you now. How do you act around a roommate-turned-boyfriend? Is there a protocol for situations like this?

You shift in your seat again. In all honesty, not much has changed between you; you still argue about what to watch in the evening and about who’s turn it is to do laundry. It’s only in the little things that you notice a shift. When you’d made your way to the kitchen this morning, Jungkook had kissed you, mumbled a “morning, babe,” and puttered around as he made coffee. Somehow, it feels too easy to slip into a new routine like this.

Jungkook’s hand reaches for yours across the table and you smile. _It feels right, though_, you think as warmth spreads through your body. You can’t help feeling like you’re missing something, though, and you can’t put your finger on it. It’s like it’s right on the tip of your tongue, waiting to be spoken out loud.

You look out the window and trace the vibrant cursive ‘Rome’ with your eyes. Something tugs at you, deep in your gut. It’s a hunkering beast of a feeling, nameless and senseless and rearing its ugly head. 

You watch as Christian walks out of the parlour. He bends down, clearly having dropped his keys before he closes up. Your eyes wander the length of his body, ripped jeans stretching tight over muscled thighs. His back is oh-so-broad and his leather jacket spans tightly across it, you can practically see his shoulder blades moving underneath the material. 

Jungkook pinches your arm, tight needling pain races up your arm. You squeak, whipping your head around to look at him. “The hell was that for?” you say, rubbing the sore spot on your forearm. 

“You were drooling,” he huffs, frowning.

You immediately feel guilt staining your veins. It feels thick and oily in the way that seems to stick to your brain. “I’m sorry,” you reach for his hand again. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

He pulls his hand back and puts it in his lap, looks down at it. “If you like him so much you should just go out with _him_ instead,” he says bitterly and you feel a pang of hurt shooting through your chest. 

“I’m not trying to– I’m with you, okay? I just think–” you start, _trying _to explain but it feels unsatisfying. You can’t seem to find the right words, because frankly, even _you_ don’t fully understand why you can’t seem to stop thinking about Christian when you’re already with Jungkook. It’s a visceral reaction, an instinctual thing that Christian sets loose in you with a mere smile. It’s unconscious and unwanted but it’s _there_, all the time, and you can’t help it.

Jungkook huffs, clearly upset and you hate it. You hate being the cause of it, especially on what’s supposed to be your first date with him. 

“Kook, I swear. I wanna be with you. Not him,” you insist, although you’re not entirely sure who you’re trying to convince.

“I just– Look. From where I stand, you’ve been drooling over this guy for over a year, okay?” he starts as he looks up at you, strong and determined. “And, I don’t know, maybe this was a mistake.” He finishes on a whisper, as though he doesn’t want to speak it alive. He lowers his eyes again.

Something breaks in you and you sit forward, your heart starting to pound as you blink away the burning feeling in your eyes. “I’ve –” 

“You don’t need to justify yourself, Y/N,” he interrupts, shaking his head, still avoiding your eyes. “It’s okay, really, sometimes things just don’t –”

“Will you shut up for a minute and let me finish?” you snap at him and bite your lip when his head shoots up, he gapes at you. Dark starry eyes are looking at you, and you take a second to think. There’s a heavy weight on your shoulders because you know your next words will _matter_, because you know they might shape your relationship with Jungkook. 

“Yes, I like Christian. I mean, he’s funny and nice and so thoughtful– and you’ve gotta admit, he’s really hot.” Jungkook looks like he’s about to interrupt you, and your heart pounds harder, faster, and your cheeks flush. “But!” you press on, feeling out of breath. “I’ve had the biggest crush on you for like, eight years. So, do you think you can maybe, trust me? When I say I wanna be with _you_?” 

Jungkook stares at you for what feels like an eternity. You squirm on your chair, forcing yourself not to break eye contact. Your eyes start to burn again as the seconds tick by and pressure builds in your chest, you feel the sudden urge to crawl under the table –

And then he nods slightly, smiles shyly at you. “Eight years, huh?” he whispers finally and you blush. “That’s pretty lame.”

“Hey!” you slap his arm in retaliation and he laughs. You can’t help but feel a heavy weight slip off your shoulders, you feel like you can breathe normally again.

“I’m just saying, I’ve been crushing on you since you told me off for scaring the frogs on that school trip.”

You blink at him, your lips part. “Wait, but that was the day we met– like, in kindergarten?”

Jungkook shifts at that and averts his eyes. The teasing edge to his smile slips off, turns into something softer, shyer

You sigh gently, reaching across the table to take his hand in yours. “You’re cute, you know that?” you say, and your heart flutters at the way his nose scrunches when he smiles at you. 

“Christian Yu cute?” he returns, his shy smile doesn’t fade.

You smile and sigh once more, your shoulders deflating. “So much cuter,” you reply, and your smile widens when he scrunches his nose again.

“Alright, here we go, one shoyu ramen and one miso ramen, and an extra plate of karaage, compliments of my sappy boyfriend, the chef,” Namjoon announces as he balances the bowls carefully, sets them down on the table.

You and Jungkook turn to look at Namjoon, gaping slightly at his statement and his ears go a little red. “Seokjin got a bit too excited when I told him you guys were on a date and yeah,” he explains, scratching his cheek in embarrassment. “Karaage on the house for you.”

Jungkook blushes at that, his cheeks go a delicate pink and you grin at Namjoon. 

“Your boyfriend is a freaking god, please tell him that,” you answer, reaching for your chopsticks and separating them.

Namjoon grins and winks at you. “Take care of the blushing baby, will you?”

You balance a piece of fried chicken between your chopsticks, ready to swallow down the absolute delight, and you nod at Namjoon. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered,” you say and bite down on the treat.

Jungkook whines, starts to bumble something about how he doesn’t need to be taken care of but Namjoon simply nods and walks away, a smug smile stretching across his full cheeks. Jungkook huffs, grumbles again about _annoying _ramen shop owners and their _annoying _boyfriends as he bites down on a piece of karaage. He’s still blushing slightly, the tips of his ears bright red as he frowns at his chicken.

Silence falls between the two of you as you start eating, the steam from the broth wafts up into your face when you look down at your noodles, silently eating your karaage. 

Jungkook starts on his ramen, and you smile softly. He has a sort of routine when it comes to eating noodles. He swirls them around first, pulls out a biteful, dunks it back into the broth and then tries to swallow the far-too-big mouthful in one go. His eyes go slightly wide, as though he’s realising his mistake even as he swallows them down.

You snort. He looks at you, smiles a little awkwardly. The feeling of uncertainty creeps in again and now that Namjoon is gone, it almost feels stronger. You huff. _It shouldn’t be this hard, should it?_

Jungkook sighs and you look up again. He’s shaking his head at the noodles, puts them back down into the broth. “Okay, I have to ask, is this as weird for you as it is for me?” he breathes out finally, staring at you with furrowed eyebrows.

You let out a deep sigh, starting to laugh out of pure relief as you lean your forehead on the back of your hand. “Fuck, thank god I’m not the only one,” you exhale, looking back up at him just as a smile spreads across his features, he looks as relieved as you. “It’s like –” You pause, shaking your head as you try to gather your thoughts.

“Like you’ve just forgotten how to be a human?”

You laugh again, sighing once more as you nod fervently. “Yeah, that,” you reply, leaning back in your chair. “How do we –” You gesture randomly with your hands, as if you’re trying to conjure up the words out of thin air. “Make it not weird?”

You both fall silent for a second as you try to think of a solution, though you’re not far along when Jungkook snaps his fingers, looks at you with wide, excited eyes. “Oh, oh, oh!” You raise your eyebrows at him, leaning forward in curiosity. “We try some of that new sake Namjoon has been going on about.”

You grin at him, nodding quickly. “Sounds like a plan.”

* * *

“Nothing that’s not on the list this time,” you tell Jungkook – and yourself – as you walk into the supermarket the next day. It’s crowded at this hour, Jungkook has to manoeuvre the shopping cart around people sifting through the cucumbers and tossing oranges into their basket. A low hum of chatter and the rattling of shopping cart wheels on the weathered tiled floor fills the large space, it’s interrupted by the incessant and loud _beep_ that rings in your ears every time a cashier scans yet another item.

Jungkook simply snickers, snatching the list out of your hand. “Then let me hold that for safekeeping,” he says only after he’s taken the grocery list between his fingers. He quickly scans it, stopping at the section filled with apples to grab a few.

“What, you don’t trust me?” you return, glaring at him as you cross your arms.

He snorts and shrugs, dumping the apples into the shopping cart. His large eyes have a cheerful glimmer to them even under the depressing fluorescent lights, and you can’t help the smile that breaks out. “This is not an issue of trust, I just know you too well.”

You huff at him, following him to the vegetables. “So you don’t trust me,” you tease, biting on your bottom lip to suppress your smile as you lean closer to glance at the grocery list.

Jungkook laughs softly, his breath ghosts through your hair and you feel a shiver running down your spine. The shy, slightly awkward tension that was there just last night has definitely faded away, as if the sake finally tossed you over that hurdle. Even so, there’s still this seemingly unshakeable feeling of nerves bubbling in your belly any time you get close to him. It’s so new, so unfamiliar, and yet so exciting all at once. “Do you know how much money we could’ve saved if you didn’t keep adding things to the list on the spot?”

“Excuse me,” you return, stepping back to take a pair of bell peppers from their crate. Jungkook’s cheeks are flushed subtly, a small smile curls at his lips as he leans on the cart’s grip and stares a hole into the grocery list. “You’re the one that keeps buying, like, twenty packs of ramen every month.”

His eyes shoot up from the list and he flashes you a grin, pushing himself up to snatch a net of onions and toss it into the cart. “Look, we just eat a lot of ramen between the two of us, okay? And it’s better to buy in bulk.”

You narrow your eyes at him and poke his arm, his lips twitch upward in amusement. “Then maybe we should cut down on that ramen.”

His face falls and he draws in a dramatic gasp, putting a hand to his chest. “You wouldn’t,” he breathes out in mock-offense.

You grab a cucumber, shrugging as you drop it into the shopping cart. “You’re always complaining about your abs disappearing, aren’t you?”

“And giving up _ramen_ is the way to solve that?” he returns, his eyebrows raised high. “Have you gone completely insane? Do you want me to have abs that badly?”

Laughing softly, you put an arm around his shoulder and pat his stomach over his shirt. “Ramen over your abs any day,” you reassure him, grinning when he smiles down at the grocery list, a shy flush to his cheeks. “What’s next?”

“Can you go ahead and grab some eggs? I’ll meet you in the cereal aisle,” he replies. He glances up at you, his nose almost brushing yours.

You smile and nod, quickly slipping your arm off of his shoulders to head towards the eggs. You let your fingers linger on his arm for just a moment longer before your hand drops back to your side.

The shopping cart rattles behind your back as Jungkook pushes it towards the cereal aisle. You softly hum along to the old pop music that’s playing, blindly making your way over to the eggs and taking a carton before heading to the cereal aisle. A year of walking around in here at least once a week has made you pretty damn familiar with the layout of this place, and you don’t even have to check the signs hanging from the ceiling to see if you’re walking into the right aisle anymore.

You find Jungkook standing next to the shopping cart, staring at the boxes of cereal in front of him as if he’s not going to pick his favourite. “Hey, I’m back,” you tell him from a few steps away

His head snaps up to look at you, a smile spreads across his features. “And you didn’t even bring candy to sneak in there,” he returns as you gently put the eggs into the cart. “I have to say, I’m proud of you.”

You huff at him, rolling your eyes as you shake your head. “Look, just because I wanted candy that one time doesn’t mean I always try to sneak in more stuff.”

“That _one_ time?” he repeats, raising his eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes again. “You’re a bully, is what you are,” you huff, walking up to the cart to take control of it yourself. “Now grab your cereal so we can move on.”

He snickers at you as you lean onto the grip, staring down into the cart. “So grumpy,” he remarks, taking his favourite cereal off the shelf. He turns it over to look at the back, as if there’s going to be something new to read on there. “What happened when you were digging around for those eggs?”

“You make grocery shopping sound a lot harder than it actually is,” you return, though you can’t help the small smile curling at your lips. “You done yet?” you ask, already starting to wheel the cart towards the end of the aisle.

Jungkook just hums in reply and you look over your shoulder, your eyebrows raised. “Can you come take a look at this for a sec?”

You frown and nod slowly, abandoning your cart to take a few steps back. “What is it? Something wrong?”

“Yeah, I just…” He trails off and hums again, you take a closer look at the box of cereal he’s staring at so intently. You see nothing out of the ordinary and your frown deepens, you look back up at him just to be faced with a bright smile, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I haven’t kissed you since this morning,” he whispers, quickly pecking your lips before he darts off with the cereal, dropping it into the cart before he runs off with that, too, the wheels loudly rattling against the tiled floor.

A smile breaks out and you shyly purse your lips, your cheeks flushing as you run after him. He grins at you over his shoulder, it’s that giddy smile of his that you recognise all too well. He makes everything so much easier, the novelty of _everything_ suddenly isn’t so scary anymore because _it’s Jungkook, and everything’s okay_.

“Hey, wait for me, you idio–”

The shopping cart crashes into the front of an abandoned one and the both of you stop dead in your tracks, watching as both carts drift to the other side of the path before they come to a stop, softly bumping into the glass doors of the coolers. A few shoppers glare at you for almost running them over or simply for causing the extra noise, and you give them an apologetic smile in return.

They turn away quickly enough and you let out a soft sigh. “What the fuck, Kook,” you hiss, hitting him in the arm as you dart forward to get the carts. You hastily put the stranger’s back into its place before they can notice it went flying off somewhere else, relieved they weren’t here to see it happen in the first place.

Jungkook smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry,” he says, almost as though he’s apologising to you and he quickly helps you get your own cart back.

“You’re an idiot,” you mutter with a soft sigh, smiling up at him. “A _cute _idiot, but still a fucking idiot.”

He breathes out a soft laugh, his shoulders seem to relax subtly at your words. “Sounds about right,” he exhales, running a hand through his hair.

Your smile softens and you tilt your head, you boop his nose with your pointer. “And that wasn’t even a proper kiss,” you add with a grin and his eyebrows shoot up, his eyes widen slightly. “I think you’re gonna have to redo that one.”

“Oh?” he says, feigning pure surprise though the bright smile that washes over his face gives his cover away. “I do?”

You hum in confirmation, nodding slowly as you stand up on your tiptoes. His hand comes around your waist to steady you, your eyes flutter closed as he leans closer.

“Well, if you say so…” he mutters, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You smile against him, one hand rests on his neck while the other runs up his chest. His heart beats fast underneath your palm as he sighs in content, pulling away slightly to smile and laugh softly. “That good enough for y–”

“Oh, hey, Jungkook, Y/N!”

You jump apart at the voice, cheeks flushing furiously when you suddenly remember where you are. You smooth over your clothes even though Jungkook didn’t mess them up in the least, and you look up at the person now standing at the cart Jungkook so unceremoniously crashed into just a minute ago. Your heart skips a beat and you almost gasp – “O-oh, Christian, hi,” you breathe out, blinking at him.

He sends you and Jungkook a smile, dropping a can of tomatoes into his cart. His long black coat rustles as his arm falls back to his side. “I knew I heard chaos somewhere,” he returns, clearly joking but you chuckle awkwardly nonetheless, wondering if he knows you almost broke the glass doors at the other side of the aisle.

“Guess our secret agent training didn’t quite work,” Jungkook returns with a laugh that sounds just as awkward. You look up at him, his cheeks are flushed and you smile to yourself – at least you’re not the only one taken by surprise.

Christian laughs, folds his grocery list closed a second before opening it up again, looking down at it. “I see you’re uh…” He clears his throat, nodding to the two of you. “Together?”

“Oh! Right, yeah,” Jungkook quickly replies, clumsily intertwining his fingers with yours and holding up your hands for Christian to see. All the jealousy Jungkook had shown the night he told you about his crush, the insecurity that had brimmed in his eyes on your first date – it all seems to have dissipated, and he almost seems nervous now. “Finally made my move,” he adds, his smile grows a little more genuine.

You smile shyly as your arms drop back to your sides. Jungkook runs his thumb over the back of your hand and your smile widens, you look down at your feet. _That he did._

Christian’s lips press together in a tight smile and he nods, eyes flickering between you and Jungkook. The paper between his fingers rustles as he folds a corner. “Well, uh– congrats!” he says, continuing to nod. “Was bound to happen sometime. I’m happy for you guys,” he says. His smile seems just as forced as yours, and your throat feels dry. _Is he judging you? What would he be judging you for, anyway?_

“Thanks,” you say, attempting a genuine smile as you push the thoughts out of your head. _He’s probably just having a bad day, didn’t want to run into anyone he knows. He can’t always be the smiley and cheerful Christian you know._ You have to fight the urge to try to cheer him up – it’s not your place anyway. “We’ll uh… we’ll leave you to your…” You pause, glancing down at his cart. _Dammit, he’s such a fucking adult._ “Vegetables.”

He chuckles, nodding quickly. “Sure, sure,” he straightens up, grips the shopping cart. “It was nice running into you guys, have a good weekend.”

You and Jungkook nod in unison. “You, too,” Jungkook returns. “I’ll see you Monday!”

Christian smiles, waves at the two of you just once before he wheels his cart off. “See you Monday.”

You quickly head into the opposite direction, turning into a random aisle just to get out of sight and you let out a long breath as soon as you feel like you’re sufficiently out earshot. It’s like a weight falls off your shoulders, your heart pounds. “Why did that feel like we just ran into an ex?” you exhale, leaning over the shopping cart as you roll past shelves and shelves of pasta. Christian’s forced smile flashes in front of your eyes again and you shake your head, trying to dispel the image from your mind. Maybe you just read him wrong, maybe it was just a _normal fucking smile_.

And yet, you can’t quite convince yourself of that.

“Because it was awkward as fuck,” Jungkook replies, sighing as he runs a hand through his hair. He looks into the direction you came from, as if Christian would suddenly appear back there to haunt you throughout the supermarket. “Man, imagine if that had happened at the parlour.”

You laugh, looking up at him. “I’d escape back to Saku.”

“And abandon me?!” he gasps, his eyes wide. You just grin, shrugging. “_Et tu_, Y/N?”

With a snort, you turn back to look at the shelves as the products transition into pasta sauces. “Dork.”

He smiles, glancing down at the now crumpled grocery list in his hand. “That’s right, and you even get to date me,” he returns. “How lucky are you, huh?” he adds jokingly and you can’t help but laugh. _Damn lucky._

He slings his arm around your shoulders and you bite your lip, lowering your head to hide your grin behind your hair. In all your years of friendship, you really shouldn’t be fazed by the casual touch, but you feel like it’s taken on a new meaning in light of… recent developments.

You can’t get enough of it.

Taking a breath, you lift your head to look up at him, and you’re sure he sees the idiotic smile on your face. He doesn’t comment – instead, his arm tightens around you ever so slightly, he slides closer to you so you’re pressed against his side now. “What’s next?”

* * *

“But what if we _stay_ in bed?” Jungkook mumbles into your shoulder, his warm arms tight around you to keep you from shuffling away from him. His hair sweeps over the bare skin of your neck and you shiver involuntarily, eyes fluttering when he nuzzles his nose into your shoulder.

“We miss work,” you mutter in reply, tracing figures along the tattoos that decorate his arm. “We don’t get paid,” you add, slowly moving your finger along his skin, down his lower arm. “We can’t get food, we die of starvation.”

He laughs softly, his warm breath fanning over your skin as he buries his face into the nape of your neck. “We can survive on the emergency ramen supply, miss Pessimism,” he mumbles, his lips tickling your skin.

You bite down on your lip to keep yourself from smiling, though you can’t help but laugh softly. “How much ramen have you been keeping under your bed, exactly?”

“A gentleman never tells,” he replies, his smile audible through his words.

With a snort, you wiggle around in his arms to face him, your nose bumping against his as his arms tighten around your waist, and you sling your arm around his shoulders. Your eyes are still half closed with sleep but you can clearly see his smile, and you sigh deeply. “I’m pretty sure a gentleman wouldn’t _have_ any ramen under his bed, Kook,” you mutter, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. You linger, you feel his lips curl up into a smile underneath you and you can’t help the smile pulling at your own.

“What, so a gentleman can’t enjoy life?”

You let out a laugh, burying your face into his chest. “Fine, mister _Gentleman_,” you huff, feeling a chuckle rumble through his chest. His fingers play with the fabric of your pyjama shirt as you sigh, melting into him. He’s so warm, so solid and yet so soft against you that you feel like drifting back to sleep for just about the third time this morning. “We really do have to get ready for work, though,” you all but groan, tangling your legs with his. At this point, it’s not just him you have to convince anymore, and you try to remind yourself that you have just a little over an hour before your shift starts, that you might not make it in time if you keep this up.

Jungkook whines lowly, it reverberates through his chest. “I don’t wanna,” he mumbles into your hair, heaving a sigh.

“You don’t even wanna get breakfast?” you try, leaning back to look up at him. His eyes are half open, he squints at you, blinks slowly. His hair falls messily onto his pillow and blends in with yours almost seamlessly.

“If it’s breakfast in bed, then yes, of course I want it,” he mutters, a soft smile curling at his lips.

You snort, raising an eyebrow at him. “Well, I don’t have any ramen under _my_ bed, so I think we’ve gotten ourselves in a pickle here.”

“Then we’re fixing that as soon as possible if we wanna keep rotating bedrooms,” he shoots back, rolling you over so you’re on your back with him hovering over you. “And in the meantime, I guess we’ll have to improvise that breakfast in bed…” he hums, the words seep into your skin as he presses a kiss right underneath your jaw and a shiver runs down your spine.

Your cheeks heat as he kisses your neck again, lower this time, and you bite your lip. Excitement flutters in your belly, your hand closes around his bicep. There’s something thrilling in the air between you, something that wasn’t there before and that sparks bright at his touch. “Oh?” you practically breathe out, biting your lip as his fingers trace along the waistband of your bottoms. They’re warm against your skin, but goosebumps wash over you nonetheless. “And –” You cut yourself off with a content sigh when his lips reach your collarbone, he slowly pulls your shirt up your chest. Your heart is beating hard against your ribcage, and something tightens in your gut as he kisses the bare skin between your breasts, his index traces around your nipple and it tightens underneath his touch. “And how is that?”

He lifts his head to look at you and flashes you a grin, rolls your nipple between his fingers, a jolt of electricity travels down your body and you breathe out sharply. “Oh, don’t worry,” he simply replies, leaning back down to press a kiss to the sensitive skin underneath your breast. “You’ll find out soon enough,” he adds, kissing the same spot once more.

You sigh softly, your eyes fluttering closed as your head falls back onto the pillow. Even in the short time you’ve been going out, it’s almost like he’s made work out of getting to know your body, how to get the exact reactions he wants out of you – and he’s a fast learner. In this case, however, that doesn’t quite work out in your favour; your will to get out of bed and go to work on time is floating further and further away as his lips travel lower and lower down your body.

He presses a kiss right above your bottoms, his fingers curl around the waistband and he starts to slowly pull them down your hips. His nails lightly graze your skin and you sigh softly, a light throbbing sensation blooms between your thighs. “Fuck,” you breathe out and you feel him smile against your skin, his warm breath fans over you and only makes you wetter. “Kook, I –”

A burst of music jolts the both of you out of your daze and your head snaps over to the nightstand. Jungkook groans and buries his face into your belly, his fingers let go of your bottoms so he can wrap his arms around your hips. You sigh along with him, you squeeze your eyes closed and shake your head – it’s your alarm beckoning you out of bed for the fourth time this morning, your last chance to get up without having to do your morning routine in a frantic rush.

Your alarm continues to blare and Jungkook shakes his head, one arm letting go of you to blindly look for the covers and pull them over his head. You stretch out your hand and pat the nightstand with your eyes half closed, and you sigh in relief when your palm finally lands on your phone and you swipe across the screen to turn off the alarm.

“No,” Jungkook mumbles before you even say anything, his voice muffled underneath the covers.

You giggle softly, lifting the covers to look at him. His forehead rests on your stomach, your shirt pulled over the upper half of his head. “We really do need to get up now.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” he shoots back, pulling your shirt up again so he can lift his head. He’s scowling at you, forearms digging into your ass as he holds you tightly to his chest.

“I’ll buy us lunch if we get up right now,” you offer with a smile, and he narrows his eyes at you as he weighs his options.

A moment passes and he huffs, climbing up so his face is level with yours. “Fine,” he mumbles, gently kissing the tip of your nose and you smile. “But only because you’re so cute.”

“Christian Yu cute?” you return, holding back a giggle.

He narrows his eyes at you, though he can’t help the smile breaking through his hardened façade. “Way cuter,” he returns with a shake of his head, pressing his lips to yours for just a moment before he pushes himself off of the mattress, groaning as he rolls out of your bed. “And if I don’t see your cute ass in the kitchen in like five minutes, I’m suing,” he decides as he stumbles to your bedroom door. He slaps his hand on the light switch to turn on the ceiling lamp, slips out to grab some clothes from his own closet.

With a smile, you fall back onto the pillow, your arm draped over your eyes to shield it from the light. Jungkook’s body heat still warms your skin even in the cool air of your bedroom, it’s almost as if his arms are still wrapped around you. You let out a content sigh as your eyelids flutter closed, a euphoric feeling blooms in your chest and spreads through your veins. _Thank you, universe._

“Yo, get up, you betrayer!”

* * *

“An apple wouldn’t _kill _a pigeon,” Jungkook says through a snort, shaking his head as you walk down the street, the neon _Rome_ sign glows only a few steps away. A thin layer of snow crunches underneath your feet. “It’d just take the impact and fly off.”

“Excuse me, so you’d just be fine if someone hit you in the head with a bowling ball?” you return in disbelief, raising your eyebrows at him. “You’d just take the impact and walk off?”

Jungkook’s bright laughter echoes through the street as he shakes his head, swinging your arms between you. “Come on, you can’t compare an _apple_ to an actual _bowling ball_, can you?” he shoots back. “It’s more like –” He pauses, thinks for a moment as you come to a stop in front of the parlour. “Like a football!”

You snort, shaking your head as Jungkook pushes the door open with his shoulder. The hinges creak heavily as it opens, and you gratefully step inside the warm parlour. “No fucking way,” you return, turning around to face Jungkook as he closes the door behind him. “Do you know how solid apples are?”

“Come on, don’t kid yourself,” he shoots back as you step backwards, blindly walking towards the counter. “Apples are nowhere near as solid as bowling balls.”

“Do I wanna know what this conversation is about?” remarks Christian behind you, and you jolt, whirling around to face him. His eyebrows are raised, lips curled up in an amused smile – but it’s off-putting in some way, it doesn’t seem entirely genuine. It almost reminds you of the way he’d smiled at you in the supermarket.

“Christian!” Jungkook exclaims before you get the chance to say hi, and Christian’s eyes flit over to him. “Great to see you here, you can finally tell Y/N that I’m right,” he says, walking past you to slip behind the counter and dump his bag and coat into the break room behind it.

“Excuse me!” you return with an offended gasp, leaning your elbows on the counter before you realise how _close_ you suddenly are to Christian, and your arms practically shoot up again, crossing over your chest instead. “He’s a reasonable man, I’m pretty sure he’d agree with _me_ over your stupid reasoning.”

Christian merely laughs, glancing at you only briefly as he types something into the desktop on the counter. “Alright, I think I do want to know what this conversation is about.”

“Okay, so say there’s a pigeon on a random balcony in a random apartment,” Jungkook starts before you can as the door to the breakroom falls shut. You stifle a snort, looking down at your hands. “And, say, you have a… an improvised slingshot and an apple.”

You glance up to see Christian pursing his lips to hold down a smile, nodding with a thoughtful frown on his forehead as if it’s the most serious story he’s ever heard. You wonder how hard he’d laugh if you told him that improvised slingshot was a stolen bra of yours. “As you do,” he says seriously, turning his back to the desktop to look at Jungkook.

“Right,” Jungkook says, leaning his back against the door marked _Employees Only_, crossing his arms over his chest. “And, say, you just so _happened_ to hit the pigeon with said apple. It’d just take the hit and fly off, right?”

You look over to Christian, raising your eyebrows as you wait for an answer. He narrows his eyes for a moment, puckering up his lips as he tilts his head at the ceiling. “I mean, pigeons have pretty fast reflexes, so it’d just fly off before the apple hit it at all, wouldn’t it?”

Both you and Jungkook let out frustrated sighs and you roll your eyes, shaking your head at him. “Useless,” you joke and Christian simply laughs. “Just tell him it’s dangerous to fire apples at pigeons, Yu, for everyone’s sake.”

“Okay, yes, you shouldn’t fire apples off balconies, period,” he agrees with a nod, and Jungkook huffs again, his shoulders slumping. Christian laughs softly, his head tilts at Jungkook – his smile almost looks fond, and you can’t help but smile yourself. “You could give people concussions with that shit, you know.”

“Ha!” you exclaim, grinning triumphantly at Jungkook, who simply narrows his eyes at you. You hear Christian snicker next to you. “I win.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you. “I don’t know if you can still _language_, babe, but he clearly said people, not pigeons,” he returns, pushing himself off the wall to have a look at the binder of appointments laying open on the counter. “Therefore, we have not yet come to a conclusion of this discussion, and neither you nor I have won yet.”

“First of all, stop talking like you’re from the eighteenth century because that’s not gonna work on me,” you start, leaning your elbows on the counter so you’re closer to him, your face mere inches away from his. “And I’m willing to let you have this one if you switch to cereal next time.”

He looks up from the binder, his lips parted. “But that’s such a waste,” he says softly, scowling at you.

His wide, doey eyes bring you dangerously close to just giving up but you refuse to give in. “And apples aren’t?”

He holds your gaze for a moment but you don’t relent, raising your eyebrows at him and returning his stare until he finally sighs deeply. He shakes his head despite the small smile pulling at his lips. “Fine, but I’m gonna need a smaller bra.”

“Wait, what?”

With a laugh, you pull away from Jungkook to look at Christian, who has his eyebrows raised at you in surprise. “The improvised slingshot he was talking about,” you explain, smiling at him.

A burst of warm and bright laughter echoes through the room and Christian covers his mouth as he fights more of it. You’re almost tempted to pull his hand back down to the counter so you can hear more. “I’m not sure they sell bras small enough for shooting cereal.”

Jungkook snickers, shrugging. “Hey, you never know,” he returns, turning back to look at the binder. “There’s an eBay store for everything.”

You burst out into laughter, burying your face in your hands.

“You might as well buy a normal slingshot,” Christian says with a snort and your head shoots up again, your eyes wide.

Jungkook freezes in his tracks and draws in a gasp, looking at you with a mischievous grin washing over his features. _Oh, fuck, why did he have to say that?_ “I should!”

“Don’t give this guy ideas!” you huff at Christian, poking his hand. He simply laughs again, raising an eyebrow at you. “Before you know it, he’ll start trying to feed me grapes from across the room.”

“Don’t say you wouldn’t love that,” Jungkook shoots back, sending you a knowing look. Okay, _maybe _he’s right about that one.

“Go buy a slingshot, then. See if I care,” you tell him with a teasing grin, leaning towards him again, your nose brushing his.

“Fine, I will,” he returns in the same joking tone, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before quickly leaning back. He focuses on the appointments for the day yet again, his cheeks a fiery red and his smile shy.

“I’ll just be over here waiting to see which one of you is gonna get a blue eye from that first,” Christian jokes and you laugh at him, pushing yourself off of the counter.

“I’ll have you know that my aim is _impeccable_,” Jungkook insists, eyes not leaving the paper scribbled full of four different styles of handwriting in two different colours. “If I can hit pigeons, I’m sure I –”

The hinges of the front door groan and Jungkook swallows the rest of his sentence. You turn to look over your shoulder, sending the man that walks in a smile. “Morning, everyone,” Jaebeom, Jungkook’s piercer colleague, greets the three of you, returning the smiles and greetings he gets as he walks over to the break room as well.

“I think that’s my cue to get to work,” you say, stretching your arms above your head. Your coat rustles with the movement and you step back to bend your spine slightly, unable to fight a yawn.

Jungkook hums, lifting his eyes to send you a soft smile. “I’ll see you for lunch?” he asks, slipping out from behind the counter to follow you to the door.

“Of course,” you reply with a nod, grinning softly when he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him before you can full and well walk out. “Have fun at work,” you mumble as you slowly step back towards the door, pulling Jungkook with you.

His lips pull into a gentle smile and he nods. “You, too,” he returns through a sigh, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, lingering there for just a second.

You sigh in content, biting your lip as you wrap your own arms around his torso. “I really do have to get to work, Kook,” you mutter, eyes fluttering as he rubs his nose against yours, and you lean up to kiss him.

He hums, nodding. “Yeah,” he breathes, though he doesn’t make a move to let you go. “You do.”

Smiling softly, you let go of him to cup his cheek, running your thumb along his bottom lip. It pulls into a smile underneath your touch and you can’t help but grin to yourself. “I’ll see you for lunch.”

”Bye,” he says through a soft sigh, and you allow yourself one more kiss before you pull back and take a step away from him, gently slipping out of his embrace.

“Bye, guys!” you add, turning to wave at Christian and Jaebeom. Your eyes stick to Christian for just a moment longer and you swear he’s purposefully averting his eyes, almost as though he’s refusing eye contact with you.

Jungkook manages one last kiss to your cheek before you slip out the door and you smile at him, waving through the glass embedded in the dark doorframe. He laughs, waves back and reluctantly turns around to walk back to the counter.

Your smile lingers as you walk over to the stoplight, and you let out a content sigh as you bury your hands into your pockets. The cold air nips at your ears and your nose, but you don’t shiver; it’s as if the almost burning hot glow from the neon _Rome_ sign still warms your skin.

* * *

The bell announcing a new customer rings brightly as a gush of cold air creeps into the shop. You look up from the list of inventory you’re updating, straightening your back and putting on your best service smile. “Welcome!” you start – until your eyes fall on the doorway and you find yourself looking at your dorky boyfriend. Your smile softens, you mumble a soft ‘hi’ as you deflate again.

He simply nods back at you, doesn’t walk up to you to kiss you or greet you like he usually does. Instead, he turns to his right, casually perusing the shelves and buckets of fresh flowers.

You tilt your head at him, raising an eyebrow in question. Jungkook simply winks in response, then ignores you again as he sniffs at a daffodil and proceeds to sneeze loudly, repeatedly. You hold back a laugh, watching as he straightens his spine and picks out a red rose, giving the daffodils one last weary look. He turns back to you, and confidence seems to fill him suddenly as he walks towards you.

“Hi, I’d like this one, please,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically polite. The corners of his lips twitch as he tries to smother a smile.

You smile, glancing at the rose as he gently puts it on the counter. “For a special someone?” you ask, deciding to play along. 

He nods, unable to keep the bright smile from stretching across his face. “My girlfriend, we’ve been going out for two weeks.”

“Two weeks?! That’s quite a milestone,” you joke.

Jungkook purses his lips to keep himself from smiling, though he fails miserably. “Right?”

Your heart flutters at the way his eyes glimmer when he looks at you. You have to suppress the urge to lean over the counter and kiss him, simply biting your lip in an attempt to hide a smile of your own. “Now, that’ll be 2.50, good sir,” you tell him, punching in the specifics on the cash register. He chuckles as you turn around to swiftly wrap the flower in cellophane, indulging yourself and grabbing some of your favourite ribbon to decorate it.

He’s put the money on the counter once you turn back around, and you exchange it for the flower with a soft smile. “Congratulations on your anniversary.”

He grins back at you, picking up the rose. “Thanks,” he replies, twirling the rose between his fingers, the colourful ribbon flowing with the movement. “Well, bye, have a good one!”

Your lips part in surprise and you blink at him, watching as he whirls around and simply _walks out_, the bell ringing once more as the door falls closed behind him. Laughter bubbles in your throat and you can’t help but let it out, shaking your head as you turn to tidy up the roll of cellophane, still snickering fondly. _He’s a fucking idiot_, you think to yourself. _And yet…_

You look over your shoulder again when the bell rings in your ears once more, sending Eric a smile as he walks in and wipes snow off his shoulders, shakes it from his hair. “Hey, back already?”

He smiles and nods, pacing over to the backroom to put away his coat. “Any reason why Jungkook is standing outside, by the way?” he asks, opening the door marked _employees only_ to hang up his coat on the pegs just next to the entrance. “Did you kick him out or something?”

You look up from the cellophane you’re simply fumbling with at this point, lips parted as you stare out the windows. And indeed, Jungkook is standing on the pavement right in front of the shop – you snicker, shaking your head. “I decidedly did not,” you reply as Eric joins you behind the counter. He looks over your shoulder at the binder of inventory you were working on while he was out on his lunch break. “I think he’s waiting for me to go on my break.”

He laughs, glancing into Jungkook's direction. “Go get him then, before the poor man freezes his balls off.”

You snort at his words, though you're not exactly going to refuse that offer. “Alright, I'll see you in like an hour,” you say, popping in and out of the backroom to grab your coat, and you slip it on as you pace over to the door.

“Have fun!”

You can't help but laugh at the subtle joking edge to Eric’s words, almost like he’s wishing you good luck as well. “Thank you, bye!” you simply respond as you pull the door open, the bell rings daintily as a gust of icy cold wind and snow hits you in the face.

Jungkook looks up from his phone as you step outside, a bright smile washing over his features. He’s holding one hand behind his back, though you're _quite_ sure what he’s hiding behind it. “Hey, babe,” he greets you. “Long time no see.”

You laugh as he walks closer and presses a brief kiss to your lips, his one arm wrapping around your waist while he keeps the other firmly behind his back. “Yeah, it’s been ages,” you reply, nodding firmly. “Happy two-week anniversary, by the way.”

His smile widens and he kisses your nose, a warm feeling spreads through your veins as he pulls you a tiny bit closer. “Happy two weeks, Y/N,” he mutters, presenting the rose he’s been hiding from you so very skillfully.

Nevertheless, a giddy smile teases over your lips as you take the flower from him, and you look up at him to kiss him in thanks.

“So where’s my present?”

You laugh as you pull away from him, finding him already grinning teasingly at you.

“Just kidding,” he adds, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Warmth courses through you as you start the small trek to RaMen. “You’re enough of a gift already.”

It’s so corny you’d be scowling at him for it normally, but you can only smile in reply this time. “Oh, don’t worry,” you reply, looking up at him. Snow crunches under your boots and Christmas decorations are starting to pop up in the streets like daisies, their colourful lights twinkle even in the bright winter sun. “Your present’s waiting for you at home.”

His amused smile widens, though he quickly purses his lips to suppress it. “Is it, now?” he asks as you come to a stop in front of RaMen’s entrance.

You simply hum in confirmation and stand up on your tiptoes, rubbing your nose against his and a rush of warmth surges through your veins. You bite the inside of your cheek as you kiss him just briefly, and he sighs softly as you play with his fingers. “I don’t wanna toot my own horn or anything, but I think you’re gonna like it.”

Jungkook just snickers and pulls you inside.

A gust of heat washes over you, familiar scents of ramen broth and fried karaage fill your nose with homey ease. Namjoon greets you as he always does, guides you to the table by the shop window that you’ve come to think of as yours. He gets you your menus, as always, takes your order, still unchanged, and brings it to you just a while later.

Your lunch dates at RaMen may have stayed pretty much the same, but they feel different – it’s the same excited feeling you had on your first date, minus the awkwardness.

Jungkook seems to feel the same way – you hook your feet with his as you start on your noodles and he smiles in a mischievous way, as if he’s in on a private joke. You can’t help but grin into your ramen, swirling your noodles around in your bowl as you slip into a comforting silence, Seokjin’s delicious food taking precedence. You slurp quietly on your noodles, watching with slight disgust as Jungkook stuffs his mouth with noodles. It’s endearing, and utterly off-putting at the same time.

The door to the restaurant swings open, a gust of cold wind flies through. It creeps under the tables and races up your legs, you shiver and look up at the entrance. A short man steps through the doorway and Namjoon takes big, almost rushed steps to meet him. The man smiles softly. Namjoon leans down, the dimple in his cheek pops as he kisses him and your eyebrows shoot up. 

“Wait, who’s that?” you ask Jungkook as you nod at Namjoon and the man, who’s smiling so widely that his gums are showing. Jungkook raises an eyebrow and turns around, craning his neck to spot the man you’re looking at. 

“Ah, that’s Yoongi.” He turns back to you and scoops soup onto his wooden spoon. “He owns that bookshop two blocks down. Doesn’t come by much, though.” 

“I thought Seokjin was Namjoon’s boyfriend?” You frown as you watch Yoongi and Namjoon walk to the open kitchen further back in the restaurant. 

“Yeah, Yoongi’s his other boyfriend.” He shrugs almost casually. “They’re actually super cute together. They’re all, like, really in love with each other? So they just –” He shrugs his shoulders again. “Decided to date.” 

You nod slowly and look at them again, watching as Seokjin leans over the counter and lets Yoongi brush his hair out of his face. There’s a softness there between them, Seokjin’s eyes crinkle at the corners and Yoongi blushes under the kitchen lights. You tilt your head. “I didn’t– I guess it just never crossed my mind that –” Seokjin laughs loudly and Namjoon giggles quietly, his shoulders shake as he leans into Yoongi. You smile softly. “They’re cute.” 

Jungkook nods vehemently and you sigh, turning back to your noodles. You swirl them around in your bowl, letting them cool down. The neon red _Rome_ burns into your periphery and your gaze wanders. It’s almost like a magnet, the way your eyes seem to gravitate towards Christian when you catch a glimpse of his shadow behind the parlour’s windows.

“Seriously, just go fuck him already,” Jungkook says through a mouthful of noodles, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Get it out of your system.”

“Maybe I will,” you reply jokingly. 

Jungkook’s jaw jumps. “Maybe you should,” he answers and now you’re not sure he’s joking anymore. 

“Jungkook, come on, I was kidding.” It hurts that he would think so lowly of you, even though you understand that his worries are legitimate. It’s not like you _want_ to be attracted to Christian. You’re more than happy with Jungkook; you’ve been over the moon the past few weeks, and you wouldn’t risk that for the world. 

“I wasn’t! Go fuck him!” he insists, nodding to the parlour as if he’s telling you to do it _now_. “I bet it won’t be as good as it was with me,” he adds, grinning smugly at you.

You fall silent for a moment, your mouth opening and closing like a fish. _What?_ “So what if he is?” you blurt out in surprise, and immediately you want to take those words back because _you’re going to fuck this up again if you don’t shut the _fuck _up_.

Rather than react the same way he did on your first date, he simply sits back with the same smug grin on his face as before. “Is that a challenge?”

You snort, looking down at your bowl of ramen and studying the noodles as you swirl them around in the broth. “It was a joke, Kook.”

“Okay, well, if you don’t wanna find out…” he teases, shrugging and slurping up some ramen.

You look up as you put down your chopsticks, narrowing your eyes at him. “What, so you want me to sleep with him just so you can _compare_ yourself to him?”

There’s a glint of competitiveness in his eye, and it seems to grow stronger and stronger every minute – the playfulness of it all admittedly takes you by surprise, yet it also puts you at ease, somehow. “I want you to fuck him so you can realise that there’s nothing you’re missing out on,” he returns, raising an eyebrow, one cheek bulging with noodles.

You can’t help but laugh, leaning back in your seat. “So you’re so confident that you’re better that you’re willing to just throw me at him?” you ask, picking your chopsticks back up.

He shrugs, smirking at you as he swallows his ramen. “What can I say, I’m younger and more flexible.”

You let out another laugh, shaking your head as you twirl your chopsticks in your bowl. “How would you even know you’re more flexible than him?”

“Only one way to find out.”

His voice is light and cockiness drips off of every word, he sounds like he’s already won. You look up with your eyebrows raised, surprised and yet completely unfazed by the smug smirk curling at his lips. “You’re actually serious about this?” you practically breathe out, expecting him to burst out laughing any moment now.

But he remains as serious as he is smug. “Well, aren't you, like, in love with him?” he teases and you narrow your eyes at him. “I gotta prove I'm better than your second knight in shining armour, babe.”

There's a teasing and confident edge to his words – it's enough for your inner competitiveness to push out the weird feeling that seems to try to settle in your chest. “How do you know I’ll be an honest judge?”

He grins back at you, putting his chopsticks down to cross his arms. “Because I see right through you.”

You narrow your eyes, tilting your head and matching the smug look on his face. You can’t bring yourself to deny the fact that, maybe, this bet seems interesting in more than one way. That, maybe, it really would help in getting _it _out of your system. “Alright, state the terms.”

His grin widens, he picks up a piece of karaage with his chopsticks and dips it in mayonnaise. “Simple,” he replies, taking a big bite from the chicken. “You fuck him, you pick a winner and we’re done,” he says as he chews.

You snort at him, he just grins back and keeps chewing with an open mouth. “He’s not just– Kook, you can’t just say that. He’s a fucking human, with feelings and everything.”

“I know that,” he says with a gentle smile, as if he’s telling you not to worry. “But you can just tell him about this, right? Like, before anything, you know, happens.”

You nod slowly. It makes sense, and some of the unease lifts off your shoulders. But you’re still wary – this is Jungkook, after all. He’s always got an agenda. “So that's it?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him. “No shameful consequences for the loser?”

He raises an eyebrow, raises his chopsticks and takes another bite of karaage. “We can swing that,” he returns, smiling in amusement when you don't seem to protest. “If you lose and I’m better, you have to call me your lord and saviour for an entire month.”

You laugh, burying your face in your palms for a moment. _Should be amazingly humiliating._ “Done,” you say nevertheless as you look back up, determined to wipe the smug grin off his face. “But if you lose and _he’s_ better, you have to ask him for tips._ Publicly_.”

He snorts, raising an eyebrow at you as he seems to think it over, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “Alright, you’re on.”

* * *

“You’re not getting an underboob tattoo to seduce Christian, Y/N,” Jungkook says with a scoff as you walk home from the parlour together a few days later. His fingers tangle with yours as fresh snow crunches under the heavy soles of your boots. 

“Why not?” You pout. “I think it's a great idea."

“Y/N, he’s a professional fucking tattoo artist,” he says, judgement dripping from his every word. His fingers lace with yours and warmth travels up your arm. The excitement of going out with Jungkook hasn’t even _begun_ to wear off. “He’s not going to be staring at your boob while he’s tattooing you.”

And, well, he has a point. For days now, you’ve been racking your brain on how exactly to approach this. Is flirting even the right move? Would it make things awkward for Jungkook? Do you want to draw this out until Christian snaps or should you just get it over with?

There are simply too many factors to consider, and while Jungkook has been surprisingly forthcoming with ideas, you have to admit you’re still struggling to wrap your head around the mere idea of it. Honestly, it’s odd, how willing Jungkook is to fling you into Christian’s arms.

You frown, snuggling deeper into your sweater. You fasten your hold on Jungkook’s waist, huddling closer to him as his arm tightens around your shoulder. You take a deep breath, breathing in the smell of winter and snow in the air as you walk home. Jungkook’s boots crunch heavily against the pavement.

There’s something utterly domestic about your routine of walking home with Jungkook. Holding onto each other, breathing puffs of condensation into the air as you trudge home… There’s something viscerally comfortable about it and you let yourself sink into it fully. 

Jungkook presses a kiss to your temple when you make it to your apartment complex and you smile softly. _So maybe not _everything’s _the same_, you muse as climb the stairs to your apartment.

“So, you got a plan yet?” Jungkook asks as you dig through your coat for your keys. 

“For dinner?” you ask as you turn the key and the door unlocks with a creak. A gust of warmth strokes your cheeks as you step inside.

Jungkook laughs, nearly falling over himself as he takes his boots off in the hall. “I meant for Christian.”

“Oh… not really,” you answer and toe your shoes off. “I keep finding reasons why this is a horrible idea, though?”

Jungkook slows in his tracks, looks at you smugly. “Don’t think you can pull it off, eh?” 

You roll your eyes at him and turn away, making your way to the kitchen. “He’s not a prize to be won, Kook,” you say instead, frowning as you look into your fridge. Not much in there, you note with disappointment. “And besides, I don’t see why I have to sleep with him. I like you just fine,” you add with a pout, somewhat offended that he still seems to be so comfortable with the idea of you sleeping with someone else.

“What a compliment,” Jungkook teases and you huff – honestly, you might just hit him at this point.

“You know what I mean.” You turn around to face him, frowning deeply.

He’s leaning against the doorframe, smiling as if he’s without a care in the world. His anime-printed socks are a jarring contrast to his ripped jeans and tattooed thighs. He moves into the kitchen, one, two steps and his chest moves against yours. “I know, and I love it when you talk dirty to me,” he says softly, his lips brushing yours.

You laugh. “You’re an idiot,” you mumble, and you press a kiss to his lips. He smiles and kisses you again, fully, intently, and you melt against him. Your arms come around him in a motion so natural that it feels like it’s the millionth time you’re kissing, and yet the electricity rushing through you makes it feel like the very first. Long strands of curly hair brush against your skin as you wrap your arms around him, pressing your body to his. His tongue slides against your bottom lip, hot and wet and he licks into your mouth, your tongue brushing against his as you sigh into the kiss. Jungkook moans softly, his hands tighten their grip around your hips and your pulse stutters. Your nose bumps against his when he pulls back a fraction of an inch to breathe, he smiles slightly and you kiss the corner of his mouth. 

“I’m your idiot though,” he whispers, his voice sounds slightly rough and he bumps his nose against yours again.

You sigh heavily, smiling softly. “Yeah, you are.”

“Come on though, tell me your plan,” he pesters you again and you shake your head in disbelief.

“Ugh, you’re a nuisance,” you say and Jungkook grins at you, looking far too pleased with himself. “I don’t know, I was thinking that I’d just try to flirt a little and see if he’s even interested, but –” You sigh, eyes fluttering closed as you shake your head. “It’s– it’s really weird, Kook.”

“Hey, if you don’t want to do it, you know you don’t have to.” 

“I know, I know,” you say as you blink up at him, searching for a way to formulate your thoughts in a way that won’t come out wrong. “I am curious, to be honest – like, you were definitely right about that. But I just… I guess I also don’t really get why you want me to get into his pants all of a sudden, you know?” you mutter, feeling your cheeks flush – but his face is still too close for you to hide it from him. “Do you really wanna get rid of me that badly?”

He smiles empathetically, letting out a soft sigh as he presses a kiss to your cheek. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he mumbles into your skin, his voice gentle. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’ll stop if you want me to,” he replies, leaning back to look at you. “But honestly, I know you’ve been wanting to sleep with him forever, so I just...” he trails off, shrugging, no judgement in his voice. “You know?”

“So you seriously don’t mind me sleeping with some other guy?” you insist, tilting your head.

He smiles softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers brush your skin and a wave of goosebumps washes over you. “Okay, I will say I’d mind it if you slept with some _random_ other guy,” he tells you. For a moment, his words reassure you, they silence the irrational voice in the back of your head telling you he just wants to get rid of you as soon as possible – but then you feel like you might as well burst out crying right here. Because if he _minds _it, that means that he was just going along with this without really meaning it, and now your relationship with him is officially ruined and– “But for some reason I don’t mind it if it’s Christian, if that makes sense?”

You frown, blinking up at him. “What? Why would he be different?”

He smiles softly, shrugs. “I don’t know,” he replies casually, and you can’t help but laugh. “Just believe me when I say that it’s all good, okay? And that I’ll tell you if it bothers me.”

“What if –” you start, and you bite your lip as you organise your thoughts. “What if I sleep with him, and you say you’re fine but– but then– like, three months later, you just tell me it bothers you?” The words rush out of you, all jumbled and nervous. Your heart pounds in your chest, running a mile a minute as your mind runs through every awful scenario possible.

“Hey, that won’t happen, I promise.” He rubs his nose against yours, and your heartbeat slows. “I’ve seen you go through plenty of people, I honestly think Christian might bother me the least.” 

You nod slowly, letting out a sigh.

“Besides, it probably won’t even take that long. He won’t stand a chance once you start flirting with him,” he adds and your lips pull into a smile despite yourself.

* * *

The door of the parlour swings open and warmth shocks your system. The pounding of your heart stills only slightly when you see Jaebeom roaming the parlour.

“Oh, hi Y/N.” He waves at you as he passes, snapping on a pair of black latex gloves on. He shakes his long bangs out of his face as he looks at you. “Jungkook already left for the day.”

“Hi! Yeah, I know, I’m here for the flowers?” you say, holding up the array of chrysanthemums in your arms.

“Ah, wait, don’t tell me –” He pauses, snaps his fingers as his eyes narrow at the ceiling. “Chrysanthemums, autumn flowers?” he finishes, pointing at you with a coy smile curling at his lips.

You grin at him, nodding in approval. “Well done, you’re officially an expert.”

Jaebeom smiles proudly. “What can I say, you’re a good teacher,” he returns, walking back to his station to clean up.

You snort at him, turning around just as the door behind the reception opens and Christian steps out. You breathe out sharply as his eyes fall on you, your shoulders relax slightly when he sends you a smile. “Oh, hey Y/N, Jungkook already left.” The rasp in his voice has shivers crawling under the thick wool of your jacket. The door slams shut behind him and your heart pounds that much faster.

“Why does everyone think I’m only here for Jungkook?” you mutter under your breath and Jaebeom laughs behind you. 

“So, what are you here for?” Christian asks, somewhat surprised. He pulls on his hair, arranges his bangs so they curl over his forehead. It’s a habit you’ve seen a few times and it’s always been endearing, but today it pulls at your heartstrings in an unexpected way. You look at your hands, shaking the colourful bundle of flowers at him.

“I brought fresh flowers,” you tell him, pulling your shoulders back and looking back up at him. “It’s officially too cold for sunflowers in my opinion.”

Christian looks at you, his eyes rake down your body and his stare feels like a physical fire licking over your skin. He looks back up at you and you notice a spark in his eyes – if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it’s sadness. You take a sharp breath, shake yourself out of the weird feeling that you refuse to name, that goes beyond lust. You smile at him instead.

He returns the gesture, somewhat hesitantly, and you bite your lip. You take a step towards the reception desk, your heart pounds as it brings you that much closer to Christian. He blinks, averts his eyes from you and rifles through the desk, crossing items off a checklist and filing documents as you mess with the whimsical arrangement you’ve created.

It’s like something in the air has changed. You don’t quite know what to say, if you should even say something – but it’s not as awkward as you would have thought. For some reason, Christian puts you at ease. He simply putters around, rearranges the desk, sorts through documents and makes backs and forths around the parlour. 

A comfortable sort of silence spreads between you. Admittedly, you’re being slower than you need to be – you keep rearranging the flowers, pretending that you’re not happy with the arrangement just to have an excuse to stay. Jaebeom’s supplies make metallic sounds sometimes, soft creaking noises echo in your ears as he moves his table around. A customer comes through the door, asks for Hyuna and Christian turns with a professional smile to fetch the parlour’s second piercing specialist. Hyuna slips out the employee’s room, all long-legged confidence and heavy combat boots. She winks at you and you reply with an easy smile before she greets her next customer and walks them to her station.

The amicable silence falls between you both again. You can’t help the feeling of warmth that overtakes you as you watch Christian pull on his glasses, frowning at his spreadsheets and cursing at his calculator. His phone rings, he swipes his thumb across the screen and you hate that even that small motion seems fascinating to you. It’s the same feeling you get when Jungkook twirls his noodles in his bowl of ramen before gathering them between his chopsticks. 

Lost in thought, you don’t hear a word of Christian’s phone conversation, only tuning back in by the time he’s hanging up and you focus on the flowers once more, pulling out a wilting sunflower. 

Christian goes quiet, he sighs heavily and you ignore the way goosebumps travel up your arms at the sound. You glance up at him, your eyebrows furrow when you notice he's rubbing his forehead, shaking his head subtly.

“Something wrong?” you ask carefully, straightening up a bright purple aster.

“I uh…” he sighs once more, putting his phone down. “I’m supposed to be leaving for some convention thing tomorrow but my dogsitter just bailed on me,” he says through a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I don't wanna leave Lori alone for three days, though, she tends to get really sad when she's lonely.” He sighs once more, chewing on his bottom lip as he rubs the back of his neck, and you try in vain not to stare at the way his tattoos move with the motion.

You force your eyes to look back up at his face. Your heart aches, seeing the worried frown etched into his forehead, and so you speak without thinking, “I could watch her, if you want.”

Christian looks over at you with big, round eyes, a heavy sigh escapes his lips – it sounds beyond relieved, and your heart flutters. You tear your eyes away from him, deciding to concentrate on the flowers instead – chrysanthemums are decidedly _less_ dangerous. “Could you?” he breathes, his hand dropping back to the counter.

You nod quickly, sending him a smile. “Of course, if it would help.”

He lets out another relieved sigh, nodding frantically. “That would be really great, thank you,” he replies, and the smile he sends you is enough to make your knees wobble. “If you don’t mind, you could come over tonight? So you can meet her and I’ll give you a spare key and everything.”

Your lips part and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, you nod slowly. “O-oh, yeah, uhm…” Clearing your throat, you nod once more, forcing a smile despite the nerves exploding in your belly. “I guess– yeah, that works, yeah,” you stammer, stumbling over your thoughts and when Christian smiles gratefully, your heart skips a beat. 

_Oh boy, you’re in trouble._

* * *

You take a breath in, push it back out and you raise your fist, knocking three times. Your heart pounds as your hand drops back to your side, you look down at your feet. It’s an hour after your shift ended and you’ve switched out your uniform for a sweater, though you still shiver as you hear Christian’s footsteps approach his front door.

The front door unlocks with a resounding click and your eyes snap up as Christian opens it for you, peeking his head through the crack. “Oh, hi!” he greets you, smiling warmly and you can’t help but smile yourself.

“Long time no see,” you joke and he laughs, opening the door further and stepping back. He’s switched out the sweater he was wearing at the parlour for a _loose fucking muscle tee_ and you almost whine – you thought you’d be safe from those when the weather turned cold.

“Come in, come in,” he says, gesturing for you to walk in. You smile at him, and he smiles back. _Into the lion’s den, I guess._

You step inside, letting your eyes wander around for a moment as you step out of your shoes. His apartment is big, way bigger than yours and Jungkook’s, you note with a twisting edge of almost-jealousy. The hallway is larger than your fucking living room, and a pair of sliding doors lead you to a room that’s just as big. Large windows and cascading hanging plants give the apartment a nearly heavenly feel. A large couch is pressed into a corner, the leather cushions look soft and you almost don’t notice a small black dog snoozing away on it. You look from the dog to Christian and he smiles at you. There’s something comforting about him. It’s steady and strong and you hate how much you love it.

“Make yourself at home,” he says as you slowly take off your coat. He takes it from you before you can even offer, you jump when his fingers inadvertently brush your exposed wrist. He raises an eyebrow at you, looks concerned for a moment but you shake your head, smiling reassuringly. He turns to hang your coat in the hallway.

It’s so _awkward_, being forced into the enclosed space of his apartment. With no flowers to distract your restless fingers, you’re beginning to realise the limits of your casual friendship with Christian. Clearly, stopping by his apartment crosses the invisible line of it. You sigh in disappointment, folding your hands together.

“So, uhm, this is Lori,” he points at her, scratching right above his ear. The small black dog looks up at you as soon as she hears her name, eyes wide in interest. Her overgrown ears twitch slightly as Christian approaches. “Honestly, she’s fairly easygoing. Just needs a lot of attention,” he adds, a fond smile curls at his lips as he sits down next to the dog. The leather cushion dips under his weight and Lori slides closer to him, her tongue lols out adorably as she looks up at him.

“I’ve got a meal plan for her that’s all printed out, contact info for the vet and shit. I’ll just leave the binder with you.” He scratches behind Lori’s ear and she growls softly, slowly blinking in content.

You smile – she’s cute. You walk closer to the couch and sit on the opposite side of Lori, and she turns to look at you as the cushion dips with your weight. “So what’s the plan, exactly?” you ask, smiling down at Lori as she paws at your thigh. You pet her head, scratching right underneath her chin. “Should I like, take her home with me? Or is it okay if I just spend a few hours here?” you add, glancing up at Christian from underneath your lashes, your fingers pausing for only a second. Lori growls softly, pokes your hand with her nose to get you to scratch her again.

Christian chuckles and you bite your lip to hold down your smile, petting Lori’s head again. “Weird kid, this one,” he mutters, smiling down at her before looking at you again. He shakes a curly lock of hair out of his face. “Anyway, I think it would just be best if she stayed here at my place? She doesn’t really do well with new environments unless I’m there to guide her through,” he replies and you nod slowly, laughing as Lori crawls into your lap, tries to climb up your shirt to lick your chin.

Christian snorts, his hand gently takes Lori’s paws from your shirt. “Come on, Lori, be nice to our guest, huh?” he mutters, ruffling the top of her head. She seems to obey, at least for the moment. “And basically, any time that you can spend with her would be great. You don’t need to, like, sleep here or anything like that.”

You nod; the task doesn’t seem quite as daunting as it did before. 

“Ah, before I forget, I’ll go get you some keys,” he adds in a mutter, jumping off the couch and before you can watch him walk off, Lori jumps up against you again to grab your attention. “Anything else you wanna know?” he asks, glancing at you over his shoulder as he walks over to a wooden chest of drawers against the wall, crouching down to rummage through the bottom drawer.

“No, I think –” You laugh as Lori jumps just a little higher and licks the underside of your chin, her wet nose bumping against your skin. “I think I’m good for now.”

“Alright, well, you can always text or call if you think of something,” he replies, snatching a pair of keys from the drawer and shoving it closed with his foot. “I think you have my number, right?”

“I think so,” you reply with a smile, laughing when Lori licks at your neck again. “I can always ask Jungkook if I happen to lose it.”

He smiles at you, letting out a soft sigh as he sits back down on the couch, holding his keys out to you. “The small one’s to get into the building, the other is for my apartment,” he explains as he hands them to you and you nod, slipping them into your pocket. “Seriously, thank you for wanting to do this so last-minute,” he adds, scratching Lori’s cheek with just his index. A fond smile is teased over his lips and you look aside at him only briefly before Lori growls at you again – you’re pretty glad for her presence tonight, or you might catch yourself staring at him once too often.

“Of course, I’m happy to help,” you reply, ruffling your hands over Lori’s fur. “She –” You laugh when Lori noses your jaw, pants onto your skin. “She seems like a nice dog,” you finish with a laugh.

Christian chuckles, draping his arm over the back of the couch as he leans his side against the backrest. “Oh, Jaebeom’s cats would tell you otherwise.”

You raise an eyebrow, looking up at him. “Do spill the tea,” you reply and he chuckles, settling further into the couch.

“Really, it all started when the idiot tried to sneak his damn cats in here.”

It turns out, polite conversation pewters out fast when you’ve got stories of the people you know being absolute _idiots_, subjects like ‘Jaebeom’s cats tried to chase Lori into the hallway’ and ‘Jungkook broke the toilet once’ and you spend the next hour or so laughing. You fall into a soft, comfortable sort of relationship. It’s unassuming and tentative, clearly new and a little awkward but you no longer feel like ‘casual friend’ is the right word for Christian Yu. Lori yawns at some point and wanders through the sliding doors to Christian’s bedroom. He gets up briefly, looks apologetic and closes the door behind her. 

It almost feels like an unspoken request for you to leave, too. You squash the decidedly-uncalled-for pang of disappointment. “I, uh– I guess I should leave,” you start, rising to your feet. You fix your eyes on your clothes as you dust them off, just to avoid having to look at Christian. 

“Unless, you wanna– maybe stay for a nightcap?” he asks and your head shoots up, his brown eyes sparkle in the low lighting of his apartment as he looks at you.

You shouldn’t. And yet, isn't that exactly what you’re supposed to do here? Christian looks at you, soft and unerringly confident in that distinctly _Christian Motherfucking Yu_ way of his. You nod subtly, wordlessly.

“Sure?” he asks again and you nod again, smiling this time.

“Yeah, come on, what have you got?”

Christian grins, it’s boyishly charming and your heart somersaults painfully at the soft stretch of his plush lips. He crosses the hall of his apartment over into the kitchen. He rummages through his cupboards for a minute, glass containers clank loudly against each other. Finally, he looks at you from across the hall, smiles brightly and triumphantly brandishes an all-too-familiar bottle. 

“Tequila!”

* * *

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re pretty?” you slur. You’re definitely not drunk, just tipsy enough that you feel warm and loose-limbed. Your head might be swimming but you’re still very firmly aware of your surroundings; specifically the way Christian’s thigh presses against yours. You blink slowly as you look at him, a little awestruck. Christian laughs, the line of his throat bobs with the motion and your eyes track the movement hungrily. “So, so pretty.” 

“You’re drunk, Y/N,” he mumbles as he leans forward. He grabs the nearly empty bottle by the neck and pours himself another shot. The veins in his arms stand out and you lazily follow the pattern of them, until the dark lines of his tattoos call your attention. 

“Nah, I’m tipsy, that makes me more honest,” you say with a shrug.

Christian looks at you and there’s something in his eyes you don’t quite understand. You feel yourself slowly leaning closer to him, almost in a gravitational way, as though he’s pulling you in.

“Seriously, Christian. You’re like, stupidly pretty,” you insist as you watch his eyelashes flutter. He laughs, it rumbles out of his chest. You push a hand through his hair, the dark curls feel soft under your touch. 

“I’d fucking do tequila shots off of you,” you mumble more to yourself than to him. His eyes open almost lazily, like a cat. He looks at you and something hot sparks in them. Your throat goes dry and you know you’ve already said too much. 

_“_Yeah?” he asks noncommittally and you nod slowly, deliberately. 

“I’d do ‘em of your arms,” you start, and almost of their own volition, your fingers come to brush over the patterns inked into his skin. You trace over his shoulder and make your way over his chest. “Or off your chest,” you continue and your fingers move over the dark fabric of his shirt. His muscles jump under it when you move lower still to his abs and it only spurs you on. “Or your abs,” you splay your fingers on his stomach. His breath hitches and you can’t deny the heady feeling that spreads through you at the knowledge that he’s affected by this, by _you_. 

You move lower still, over his thighs and the muscles tighten. Christian takes a sharp breath as he tracks every single one of your movements. “I’d do them off your thighs too,” you whisper. Your fingers move to the inside of his thigh, rise up an inch or two and Christian stops breathing altogether. “Or your dick.”

“That doesn’t sound very hygienic,” he answers with an amused smile. His casual attitude only eggs you on and you can’t resist the challenge. “I’m not sure I’d want salt on my dick, you know.”

You shrug. “Guess I could always use precome.” Christian nearly chokes on his shot. “What? It would work! It’s salty enough!”

He coughs frantically, hitting his chest a few times. “I know,” he replies hoarsely, throwing back the last of his shot. 

“Do you, now?” you tease; you can’t help it at this point.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He laughs and shakes his head. He doesn’t give you much more of an answer, and you decide to drop the subject. It’s none of your business anyway.

You don’t know when it happened, but sometime in the last hour, you moved from the edge of the couch to right next to Christian. His thigh presses into the side of your leg, the heat of his body burns through the layers of clothes you’re wearing and you gulp.

Christian’s eyes move over your face, almost like he’s searching for something. He shakes his head quickly and finally pours another shot before throwing it back. His throat moves tantalizingly as he swallows the burning alcohol. _Now or never_. You move on instinct, pressing a kiss to taunt line of his neck. He startles, a choked off sound punches from his chest and you lean away quickly. 

You look at him, wondering if you just made an astonishingly _stupid _mistake. Christian has always been friendly; a little touchy, a lot charming. Maybe it’s simply the way he is with everyone. Maybe you completely misinterpreted the mood and ruined a potential friendship. You’re starting to spiral and you move away, trying to put some distance between you and Christian. You already miss the solid heat of him. 

“Wait –” he whispers, reaches out as he puts his glass down and takes a hold of your wrist. Long fingers, big hands and _warmth, warmth, warmth. _

He hesitates, you see it in the taut line of his jaw, the muscle that twitches there. His fingers wrap firmly around your wrist. It’s almost as though he’s trying to tether himself to reality or, to you. Christian leans forward slowly, deliberately and you can’t help but compare him to that lion again. Hot breath fans over you, his lips are an inch from yours and your heart stops beating for what seems like an eternity. 

His lips are a whisper against yours, you barely feel any kind of pressure and you whine, high in your throat. This is not what you wanted. Your arms come around his neck, the soft hair at the base of it tangles with your fingers. You pull yourself closer to him and lick his bottom lip. You can taste the bitterness of the alcohol, the biting sting of it on your tongue. It wars with the plush softness of Christian’s lips, he groans and you fall in love with the sound. It echoes, deep in your bones, you sigh against his lips, you feel so far away from him, yet so close and it’s entirely not enough for you.

Fabric rustles, you move your leg to straddle his lap and you could melt from the thickness of his thighs alone. With the new angle, you press against him more firmly and he drinks it in. He swallows the noises you make, uncontrolled and breathy. Your head spins when his fingers tighten on your hips. His tongue licks over your bottom lip and you whine against him. He deepens the kiss and it leaves you breathless, Christian’s lips are soft and firm and dominating and you yield under him. He licks over your bottom lip, heat curls low in your belly and you can’t control the breathy sigh you let out. It’s almost as though it’s being pulled from deep within you. Heat burns in the pit of your stomach, mixes with the alcohol in your veins and leaves you dizzy as Christian’s lips move against yours. There’s something deliberate about the way his lips press against yours. His thumb tilts your chin up, and you sigh against him. You move closer to him, your fingers bunch the offensive material of his offensive muscle tee that slides off his _offensive _shoulders. Your hips tilt, in soft, near unconscious motions and Christian breathes sharply. You smile against him and he huffs. 

“Fucking tease,” he mumbles and bites your lip, licks over it and heat races through your veins. He kisses you again, deep and full of purpose and you melt under his touch. His kiss is so very different from Jungkook’s. He’s more assertive, hungry in a way that makes your toes curl. Where Jungkook leaves you breathless, Christian steals every thought from you. His warm lips move tantalisingly across your jaw. Featherlight touches of electricity race down your body.

He drags you closer to him, your breasts press against the hard lines of his chest and your crotch moves over his cock. The hard line of it pulls an embarrassingly desperate noise from you. Christian kisses the corner of your mouth, and you catch your breath. Everything seems slow, the way he moves, the feel of his lips unassumingly gentle against your heated skin. 

You pull yourself closer to him, closer still when you feel his cock, half-hard as it presses against his rough jeans. Christian makes a sound, low and deep and it coats you with something hot and unbidden and you lick into his mouth. You feel an edge of desperation in your belly, it pools low, rises like a wave and threatens to overtake you entirely. Every breath comes in short gasps as you kiss him. His fingertips edge under your shirt and every cell in your body seems to catch fire at the mere touch of his fingers on your bare skin. You barely register the slow grind of your hips against his, until Christian meets you and electricity races through you. You moan and pull yourself closer still to him. You fingers tangle in his wild hair and you swallow the resounding groan he lets out. Christian bites your lip and you let out a shaky breath. His mouth leaves a burning path of electricity in its wake as he kisses your jaw. You breathe, sharp and fast until he finally leans away from you.

“This was so nice, Jungkook’s gonna be so mad,” you mumble, lost in thought.

Christian breathes sharply, it almost sounds pained. “What?” His eyebrows furrow and you feel the incomparable urge to smooth out the tense lines. You can almost see reality catching up to him. His body goes rigid, as though he’s waking from a dream. 

“Uh– don’t worry about Jungkook?” You put on your most winning smile and hope to God he’ll let it go. 

“Yeah, try again.” His hand tightens its hold when you try to squirm away. You sigh. It’s not like you planned on keeping it from him anyway.

“We– we sort of had a bet,” you whisper, and Christian’s eyes search your face, zoning in on your lips as you speak. You feel self-conscious, completely aware of how ridiculous you’re going to sound once the words fall from your lips. Christian is tense under you, all hard lines and you can almost feel the warm fuzz of the alcohol wear off as he worries, realising what he’s done. “That he would be better than you-”

“Better than me?” he rasps, the question clear in his voice. You shift in his lap, the hard line of his cock presses into the side of your thigh. 

“Yeah,” you answer, dazed by the hot feeling of his arms tightening around your waist. His lips brush yours in the faintest whisper of a kiss. It feels more like a promise, a dark heady promise and your heart beats hard against your ribs. 

“You bet on that?” he asks, his lips move against yours with every word. You feel yourself being pulled under a spell. There’s something magnetic about Christian, something that Jungkook doesn’t have. Where Christian melts you underneath his fingertips, tracing hot patterns into the skin of your hips, Jungkook is warmth and laugh lines and comfort. You’re finding yourself confused, attracted to both and in Christian’s lap. 

“He– he gave me the green light to uhm…” You grasp at the fraying strands of your confidence. This man is getting under your skin. He fills the empty space between you both. He dictates the pace of your hips in an entirely new way. 

“To what?” he whispers and you feel yourself go boneless in his arms at the roughness in his voice. 

“To uhm– fool around… with you,” you finish, chewing your bottom lip. 

Christian takes a deep breath, full of unspoken relief and shifts slightly, spreads his thighs further and your legs part with the movement too. You lose your balance on him and grip his shoulder more tightly. 

“That so?” he murmurs, smirking and you find yourself nodding slowly. The corner of his lip tilts up, and your cheeks burn. “Anything else you brats discussed behind my back?”

His hands tighten around your hips and move you closer to his clothed cock. The hard line of it presses against your pussy, through your jeans and shivers dance on your skin.

“Fuck me,” you breathe against his lips and he groans when you rock against him. 

“Y/N…” he starts, deep-voiced, slow and just a little slurred. You move against him in light figure eights that make your wet panties stick to your pussy. Christian leans his forehead against yours, a deep groan vibrates in his chest when you press down against his cock. 

“Fuck me,” you say again and let the whisper tumble from your lips. His fingers dig into your hips, restrict your movement and a desperate whine bubbles up in your chest. “Please, Christian.” 

He leans back against the couch, confident and controlled. You stretch over him, your breasts rub against his chest and you wish, _god_ you wish. You let your fingers trace down the length of his arm, biting your lip as you look at him. He smirks and your cheeks heat horribly. Your hips move and you press yourself against Christian’s cock. His jaw tightens and his eyes flash darkly. You grin at him, winking as you start rocking yourself against him earnest. 

“Bit desperate, are you?” he whispers softly, his voice hooks over the words. It’s ominous and it punches a moan from you, entirely unexpected and Christian laughs softly. His chest moves up and down rapidly as you grind against him. 

You whine, high in your throat, your hand comes to rest on his stomach. Christian’s abs tighten under your touch. He brushes your hair out of your face and cups your cheek almost gently and your heart aches. The gesture is so soft, so gentle that, you almost feel tears welling up. Alcohol wars with arousal in your belly both spreading a heady warmth. It fuzzes the edges of your vision, softens the desperation in your veins.

There’s something soft about Christian, about the way he touches you. It’s almost gentle, unexpected and it makes you crave _more_. More of the whispered words and the warm fingers and the guiding hands on your hips. More of his warmth, that your body seems to soak up almost hungrily. 

“Christian,” you whisper. There’s a drunk buzz under your skin, it fills your empty spaces, electrifies your skin wherever Christian touches. 

“What?” he answers as his fingers move over your stomach until they hook into the belt loops of your jeans and drag your pussy over his cock. Your breath hitches when you feel the heavy ridge of his cock press against your dampening pussy. “Can’t even talk anymore?” Christian says and you choke on a sob as he grinds into you. Sparks of heat unfurl in your belly and Christian sits up. Your breasts drag against his chest with every rocking motion. He pulls you into a kiss. It grounds you somehow. Christan sucks on the tip of your tongue and heat curls down your spine. Your panties cling tightly to you as wetness pools in your pussy and sparks race over your skin at Christian’s touch. He pulls you closer still, rocks you back and closer again in slow movements that spark heat in your belly and ignite a fire in your veins. 

Wisps of electricity tighten around your spine, dragging your orgasm closer with every rock of your hips against Christian’s thick cock. Christian leans into you, his forehead rests against yours in a touch so intimate it splinters something in your chest. The brevity of this, the fact that this may be the only time you can be this close to him, hurts more than you could have thought possible. You want to soak it in, memorise every detail of his body. The rise of his chest, the low, panting breaths he lets out when you circle your hips tightly. The soft curve of his bottom lip and gentle touch of his nose as it bumps against yours. Your heart pounds, fast and painfully as you try not to think of the inevitable end of this. Jungkook’s eyes flash before your mind, the endearing crinkle in them when he smiles at you. You let out a sharp breath. Christian thrusts his hips into yours. You’re pulled back into the moment, it’s dizzying and foreign to you. The tight feeling in your chest that you simply can’t explain. Your nose bumps against Christian’s cheeks with the soft rocking motion. A sound slips from your mouth, breathy and nearly unrecognisable in its pitch. 

“Come for me, Y/N,” he whispers against the shell of your ear and your nails drag down the length of his back. And you can feel the way his lips curl into a smile. “Be a good little brat.”

You whine high in your throat, tendrils of heat sneak up your body, wrap themselves tightly around your lungs until you can barely breathe. Christian’s teeth worry your earlobe, bite it gently and the shiver of pain mixes with the streaks of arousal that threaten to drown you. You work your hips faster, chase the feeling and Christian groans at the friction. You work yourself right over his cock and try to grasp the evading wisps of your orgasm. Pressure strains low in your belly, tightens like a vice and your back arches, goes rigid when Christian starts meeting your thrusts with increasing intent. The thick line of his cock where he grinds against your pussy makes you whine, makes you wish you could see him naked. There’s an ache in your body, you feel so far away from Christian. You whine his name, lost in the confusing sensations. 

“Sh, I’ve got you,” he answers and presses a soft kiss to your jaw. It’s not enough and it’s overwhelmingly too much and the teetering rubber band of your orgasm finally snaps. You come, shaking in his arms as shivering spasms overtake you. You moan when Christian keeps you there right above his cock. He thrusts faster and faster against you. You whimper with oversensitivity and kiss Christian messily. Teeth clash and Christian licks into your mouth in a nearly possessive way. Another whine is lost as Christian swallows your sounds, buries them against his lips. 

“Y/N…” he grunts, his eyebrows furrow and you bite his bottom lip. His thrusts turn sloppy, less controlled, he almost seems to slow down, as though wanting to lengthen his orgasm. His nose brushes against your temple, it’s incredibly intimate and tears prickle your eyes. His spine goes rigid under your touch, tremors lance up his body as he shakes every now and again. He sighs contentedly and you can’t help but want to kiss him again. 

You indulge yourself; _this is the last time_, you think as you press your lips to his. He smiles into the kiss and you can’t help but reciprocate as you breathe him in.

Shy smiles turn into breathy laughs as the electric heat of orgasm fades and you pull back. There’s a warm glow that resonates throughout your body. Your heartbeat slows, stutters over itself when Christian brushes your hair back and behind your ear. You slowly move off his lap and your hips protest weakly.

“Oh, Jesus,” you groan as something in your hip creaks. 

“Getting old are ya?” Christian teases and you slap his arm goodnaturedly. 

“Shut up,” you laugh and shift against him slowly. Your shoulder presses into his arm as you lean into his touch. He smiles at you, slow and steady as it stretches across his face. The corners of his eyes crease and the dark brown of his irises glitters in the low lighting. “You’re too pretty,” you grumble almost dejectedly. He laughs, loudly, like it has startled out of him. His warm skin rubs against yours as he moves, gently puts his arm around you. 

There’s a new feeling here, something delicate that blossoms slowly in the panting silence between you. You can’t quite name it; it’s just out of your reach, just beyond the edges of grasping. You sigh and shuffle into the couch, leaning your head on his shoulder as you go. You feel yourself drift off, exhaustion and satiation lulling you into sleep as Christian’s slow breathing sets a soothing pace to follow.

Time moves weirdly; it doesn’t slow or quicken its pace, it’s almost as though it stops altogether. There’s something perennial about the moment you share with Christian, right here on his couch. You don’t understand how he can make you feel this way – it’s so different from what you feel for Jungkook. It’s its own feeling, it belongs entirely to Christian and you just don’t know what to make of it. It’s scary and unexpected, and your pulse races. 

Christian lets out a snore, low and grumbly and the corners of your lips tilt up, thoroughly charmed by those little quirks of his you’re discovering. The thought freezes halfway down your spine before its warmth can spread any further. You’re not supposed to be finding out his quirks. You gulp, moving gently to extricate yourself from him without waking him up. 

His head lulls slightly and a lock of curly hair falls across his forehead. Your fingers itch with the need to brush it away and out of his face. You resist. It’s not your place.

You tiptoe out of his living room, collecting your shoes as quickly as you dare before slipping out of his apartment, clicking his front door shut. You breathe deeply, hoping that the frigid air in the hallway will clear the fog that floats in your brain, clouding your better judgement. You press your eyes closed, wishing away the visual of Christian sleeping on his couch, mouth slightly ajar, completely unguarded. You try to focus on your feet instead as you take the stairs down, two by two.

Cold air bites your cheeks as you fall out of the huddled warmth of Christian’s apartment building and into the streets. The moon shines up above you, icy and eerie, and a shiver travels up the length of your leg. You pull your jacket closer around you, shake off the unnerving feeling of sadness that edges all other thoughts out of your mind and make your way home through the winding, snowy streets.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> helloooo friends, we hope you’ve had a great weekend!! The train to thirst town has arrived at its third stop, we hope you enjoy it ;)

You sigh, stomping your feet on the doormat to shake off the remnants of snow sticking to your shoes, your shoulders slumping. Your walk through the snowy streets has extinguished the remnants of tequila burning at your insides. The cold has frozen your fingers and still bites at your skin, and you’re shivering; you barely want to take off your coat even though the apartment is more than warm enough.

The living room lights are still on – you let out a short breath, feeling some of the tension rushing out of your muscles. A weird feeling has been bubbling in the pit of your stomach ever since the front door to Christian’s apartment fell closed behind you, and you’re eager to return to the comfort of Jungkook’s arms.

With another sigh, you walk over to the couch. Jungkook is stretched out on the cushions, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes closed. His face barely sticks out of the cocoon he’s made out of the black oversized hoodie he’s wearing, with the hood draped over his forehead and the collar pulled up to his chin. His lips are slightly parted and his long bangs curl over his forehead, brush his cheek. The image of the sleeping Christian you left behind flashes in front of you eyes, discomfort threatens to tighten around your lungs.

You shake your head, taking a breath. You bite your tongue in an attempt to distract yourself from the feeling, and slowly the image fades to the back of your mind. With a small smile curling at your lips, you look down at Jungkook once more, reaching out to gently pinch his nose.

He scrunches it, shakes his head slowly, furrows his eyebrows. Your smile widens with fondness and warmth spreads through your veins. You tilt your head at him as his eyes flutter open, and he blinks at you for two seconds before he realises what he’s looking at.

“Oh, hey,” he says hoarsely, a lazy smile spreading over his lips. His hand reaches up to rest on the small of your back, his thumb softly rubs over your spine. The touch is simple, almost thoughtless, and yet it sends a shiver of warmth through you, soothes the weird feeling in your stomach. “Back already?”

You smile, letting him pull you closer to the couch. “No, I’m still at Christian’s place,” you joke.

He laughs, his free hand closes around your wrist and he tugs you down to the couch. “So I _ am _ dreaming about seeing your pretty face up close,” he mutters as you settle on his chest, his arms wrapping around your torso as you cling onto his. Warmth seeps through your clothes into your skin and you shiver, your fingers start to tingle as blood rushes back into them. You sigh, closing your eyes. _ You’re okay. _

“We’re watching his dog while he’s off for that convention, by the way,” you mutter into his hoodie, eyes fluttering closed as you breathe in his scent.

Jungkook hums and nods. “Sounds fun, she’s pretty cool,” he replies softly. The words are muttered into your hair, you can feel his lips move as his warm breath fans over you. You sigh once more and tighten your arms around him, feeling yourself deflate on the spot. “Tired?”

You hum and lift your head to look at him, resting your chin on his chest. “Kinda,” you reply with a small smile, letting out another sigh as his fingers absently trace figures into your back.

The tense and sad feeling is starting to subside, and you’re starting to doubt it actually _ means _ something. Maybe, just maybe, it was just an alcohol-induced, post-orgasm dip. _ That’s all it was _ , you decide; worries about making things weird between you and Jungkook and Christian simply morphed into something else, something you don’t _ really _feel.

“He wore you out that much, huh?” Jungkook teases, a soft grin curling at his lips.

He’s as lighthearted about it all as he has been ever since he proposed the bet to you, and you can’t help being surprised by it. But it helps – it helps in not making such a big deal out of all of this. “If I get tired just from dry humping, I really need to work on my stamina,” you joke, relieved when you feel a genuinely happy smile curling at your lips, relieved to sink into the easy conversation you’re used to.

He snorts, tracing his fingers up your spine to make you shiver. “Dry humping, huh?” he mutters, raising an eyebrow. “So should we prove that I’m better at that, too?” he adds in a low hum.

Your eyes widen ever so slightly, a rush of heat shoots through you. “_ Too _?” you repeat softly – so softly that you’re surprised Jungkook can even hear you. “What do you mean, too?”

He shrugs, flashes you a smug smile. “Well, if all you did was grind on his dick…” he trails off. You raise an eyebrow at him, silently telling him to go on. “Technically, you could say you didn’t actually _ fuck _ the guy, right?”

You narrow your eyes at him, though you’ll admit the competitive glint in his eyes is _ kind of _ endearing. “So, what– the fact that he made me come isn’t enough for you?”

He just grins, quirking an eyebrow at you. “I’m just saying, you didn’t complete all the terms of the bet, AKA I win by default.”

There’s something so smug, so cocky about the glimmer in his eyes that you suddenly feel the strong need to prove him wrong, and you huff at him. Almost out of nowhere, the memory of Christian’s heavy kisses and his burning touch rises like an unstoppable wave in your mind. You remember the shape of him, the thickness of his cock against your crotch as you’d grinded against him; in all honesty, it wouldn’t even be a hardship to ‘fuck’ Christian.

Jungkook only takes your silence for confirmation, however, and his grin widens. “So do you wanna start calling me your lord and saviour now, or…?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Oh, no, that’s not necessary, Jeon,” you reply lowly, leaning closer to Jungkook until you can see the specks and shades of brown in his eyes. “I’ll fucking fuck Christian motherfucking Yu.”

His pupils dilate in response, he raises an eyebrow as his fingers dig into your hips. “Watch your language, babe,” he returns. The small smirk that curls at his lips says it’s meant as a joke, but there’s a fiery edge to his words that makes your heart beat just a little harder, just a little louder.

You keep up a calm front, though, simply mirroring his cocky smirk as you raise an eyebrow. “Or what?”

His grin widens, he shrugs and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Or I’ll just have to remind you of the _ actual _meaning of that bad, bad word,” he returns jokingly, running his thumb over your bottom lip. “Maybe refresh your memory of what Christian’s up against while I’m at it, hm?”

Letting out a dramatic sigh, you shake your head. “Oh, what a _ fucking _ disaster that would be,” you lament theatrically, averting your eyes to stare at nothing in particular as he laughs. “I can’t _ fucking _ believe I– _ Jesus _!” you yelp when Jungkook abruptly rolls you over on the couch and you fall silent, blinking up at him.

He’s now hovering over you, raising an eyebrow. “You were saying?” he asks, the tone in his voice almost makes it sound like he’s challenging you. But before you can reply, he leans down and starts to trail slow, hot kisses along the underside of your jaw.

You let out a soft sigh as his hands inch up your shirt, your eyes fluttering closed. “Nothing of _ fucking _ importance,” you exhale, grinning at him.

He laughs. “Alright, that’s it, young lady,” he huffs, tugging up your shirt until he pulls it over your head and tosses it aside. You giggle as he leans back down, taking his face in both your hands as his lips ghost against yours. “Get ready to learn the real meaning of _ fuck _.”

* * *

“He has an actual meal plan for his _ dog _?” Jungkook asks in disbelief. His eyes are wide as he blinks at you, leaning his shoulder against the wall of the corridor.

You laugh softly, nodding at him as you unlock the door to Christian’s apartment. “A whole binder, actually,” you reply, swinging the door open to let the two of you in.

Lori barks loudly and runs into the hallway before you can even close the door. She jumps up against your legs, tongue lolling out as she pants up at you. “Hey, Lori!” you greet her cheerfully, crouching down to pet her head.

“The guy has a _ binder _?” Jungkook repeats, closing the door and locking it behind him. Lori whines in content as you scratch underneath her chin, her eyes falling closed. “We’re never getting a dog if it takes that much effort to take care of it.”

You snort, scratching behind Lori’s ear one last time before you get back up. She barks again as you take off your shoes and coat and you pout at her, shaking your head in a silent apology. “I didn’t know you were planning on getting a dog in the first place, but I guess we’ll have to do with Lori for now,” you return, hanging your coat on the coat rack next to the door.

Jungkook simply snorts, slipping out of his shoes as Lori moves over to him and starts to yap at his feet. “What a _ fucking _ disaster,” he jokes, glancing up at you with a grin and you laugh.

He bends down to pet Lori’s head, but it’s not enough for her and she jumps up against him, paws digging into his thighs. His smile widens, he obliges her silent request and crouches down – Lori practically leaps forward and Jungkook lets her, allows her to lick his face as he protests only weakly, laughing as he tries to push her away without _ really _pushing her away. “I’ve missed you too!” he tells her as she tries to climb up his chest, and you laugh as you walk over to the living room, looking at them over your shoulder. “Ah, ah, let’s leave my shirt alone, alright?”

Lori barks in protest when he puts her paws back on the floor, and she goes back in to lick his face again. Her big ears twitch as he shakes his head to avoid her, but it only seems to egg her on.

“I forgot how much of a fucking diva you are,” Jungkook remarks with a laugh, picking her up and putting her down on the floor a bit further away from him. He jumps up before she can leap back into his arms. “And I forgot how big his fucking hallway is,” he adds, finally looking around as he takes off his coat.

You snort, walking over to the coffee table in front of the couch, where Christian has left the binder for you. A bright yellow post-it note sits on the cover, curls up slightly and you smile, picking it up to read Christian’s scribbly handwriting.

_ Thanks again!! Don’t know if I said this but the food is in the storage closet right next to the bathroom. Her giraffe should be… around. I’ll put it next to the binder but she’s probably gonna hide it somewhere again. _

You roll your shoulders, willing away the blossoming awkwardness in your chest and pasting the post-it on the table. With a sigh, you bite your tongue and open the binder – _ how can you feel awkward when he’s not even around? _ Your eyes inevitably flicker back to the post-it, the scratchy black letters are stark against the bright yellow paper. You bite your lip and tear your eyes away from it – no point in dwelling on that now.

You let out yet another sigh, flipping through the binder until you locate her meal plan. “Hey, Kook, can you get some dog food from the closet next to the bathroom?” you call, scanning over the meal plan for this weekend – two meals a day, all the specifics are printed on the paper down to their exact measurements. Looks simple enough.

“A can, or?” sounds the reply, and you glance up as Lori calmly patters back into the living room.

“Yeah, chicken if you can find it,” you reply, closing the binder to start looking around for her giraffe. “You can grab some treats, too, the plan says she’s allowed to have a few.”

“Oh, you think she can do tricks?”

You laugh as you hear Jungkook close a door and he walks into the living room, a can of dog food and a bag of treats in his arms. “Let’s let her have some dinner first, shall we?” you shoot back and he snorts, tossing the bag of treats to you and turning to Lori to put the dog food into her bowl, right next to the sliding doors.

“Nothing about those tricks in the binder?” he jokes, his smile audible through his words.

You can’t help but laugh as you put the treats on the couch. “You’re welcome to check, but I’m not flipping through that entire thing,” you reply, sliding down to the floor to look underneath the seat, spotting Lori’s stuffed giraffe lying there in the dark – Christian certainly wasn’t lying about Lori hiding it.

Jungkook snorts. “Oh, so _ that’s _ too much effort for you?” he returns, filling up Lori’s bowl with the canned dog food. She growls softly and he chuckles, cooing at her before he gets up to toss out the can.

With a laugh, you swipe the giraffe out from underneath the couch and put it next to the treats. “I never said it wasn’t,” you return and he narrows his eyes at you, raising an eyebrow. “Does she still have water?” you ask, ignoring him as you plop down onto the leather cushions.

Jungkook glances into Lori’s direction as he walks to the couch to join you, nodding as he hums in affirmation. You let out a soft sigh as he sits down next to you, pulling your legs into his lap and tugging at them to make you scootch a little closer. His arm wraps around your torso as soon as you’re close enough, pulling you even further into him.

You laugh softly, deciding to just climb into his lap to save him the trouble. “If you wanted me in your lap, you could’ve just said so,” you say with a smile, wrapping an arm around his neck as his arms come around your waist.

He grins, leans forward and you feel his nose press into your cheek. “Now where’s the fun in that?” he returns, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You sigh, shamelessly chasing his lips and tightening your arms around his neck. He smiles against you.

“So this is what we’re doing this weekend?” you joke, pulling back just enough to speak. Your nose brushes his cheek, his arms are warm around you and you can’t keep yourself from smiling. “Making out on Christian’s couch?”

“Well, you got us into this, so it’s only fair I get a say in how we spend our time here, isn’t it?” he shoots back, pecking your lips. You snort, twirling a strand of his hair around your finger. “Plus, you were pretty tired last night, so we might as well get some rest and relaxation,” he adds in an exaggerated sultry voice.

You chuckle softly, your heart fluttering as you try to stop your mind from drowning you in memories of Christian. “Shut up,” you huff at him, making no move to protest or pull away when he kisses you again.

He smiles against your lips, sighing softly, and his breath fans over your skin. You hum, running a hand through his hair before you rest it in his neck. He trails away from your mouth and presses soft, lazy kisses down your cheek, your jaw, your neck. He stops just before he reaches your shoulder and buries his nose into your sweater instead, his arms tightening around your waist. A warm feeling spreads through your chest and you close your eyes, resting your cheek on his head.

Yet, despite it all, Christian’s apartment feels strangely empty and quiet without him. You frown, heaving a sigh as you tighten your embrace around Jungkook.

“You doing okay?”

The question is sudden, his voice is low and soft and yet it rumbles through you like thunder. You’ll admit his words take you by surprise and you can’t quite come up with an answer at first; your mind starts to run at a million miles an hour instead. You’re sure he’s noticed your muted attitude towards last night and even you aren’t quite sure where it’s all coming from, why you’re feeling this way; if you didn’t know better, you’d say that you’re missing the uniquely heated feeling that spreads through you whenever Christian’s fingers so much as brush your skin. Or, rather, that you just miss _ him _.

“I’m okay,” you mutter, shifting your head so it falls on his shoulder. You breathe in, close your eyes as you try to focus on Jungkook’s scent. “Just kinda down? I don’t know,” you blurt out with a sheepish laugh, feeling your heart pound as soon as the words leave your lips.

He nods slowly, pressing a kiss onto your shirt. “Wanna talk about it?”

You smile as your heart slows again. He shifts you in his embrace, sighs into your clothes. “I think it’s just temporary,” you mumble in reply, your smile widening as you pull back to look at him. “You can kiss it better, though.”

Jungkook lifts his head and grins at you, raising an eyebrow. “Well, if you say so,” he replies, eyes flickering down to your mouth just before he leans in and his lips are on yours again. His arms tighten around your waist as he lowers you to the couch, your back hitting the soft cushions before you realise you’re making your descent. The bag of dog treats rustles next to you as he pushes it out of the way, and he plants his elbow there to hover over you. He pulls back, kisses the corner of your mouth, leans his forehead against yours and you allow yourself to smile, your fingers tangling in the hairs at the nape of his neck. “Getting better?” he mumbles as he smiles against your skin, tangling his legs with yours.

Your smile widens and your nose rubs his as you lean up, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Hm, I think I need just a little more,” you mutter.

He laughs, his hair falls into your face and you brush it away, tucking it behind his ears. “Do you, now?” he hums softly, leaning in yet again –

“_ Woof! _”

You jolt out of your daze, feeling Lori’s wet nose nudge your arm before you can look at her. Jungkook huffs and sits up, glaring at the dog jumping up against the couch. “Shouldn’t you be having dinner?” he asks her, a jokingly stern edge to his voice as he frowns at her.

Lori blinks up at him, barks again.

“I think she wants dessert already,” you say through a laugh, at which Jungkook huffs again, burying his face into your neck, his thumb stroking circles into your hip.

“Won’t even let me kiss my girlfriend in her presence,” he mutters, shaking his head. With a sigh, he pushes himself up again, grabbing the bag of treats off the couch and waving it at Lori, who pants excitedly. “You want some candy, you diva?”

Lori jumps back down to the floor and patters back a few steps, stares up at him expectantly.

He snorts and slides down to the floor, resting his back against the couch seat. “Sit,” he says, opening up the bag of treats. Lori simply stares up at him, decidedly _ not _ sitting and you smile, sliding down to the floor and settling next to him. “Come on, sit,” he encourages, yet Lori doesn’t react.

You laugh, taking the treat from his fingers and holding it up in front of you instead. Lori diverts her big brown eyes to you, stares at you as she waits. “Roll over,” you tell her in a high-pitched voice, patting the floor. “Come on, you can do it!”

Lori patters over to stand in front of you, looks up at the treat just out of her reach – but she doesn’t roll over.

You huff, patting the floor again. “Come on, roll over,” you repeat, nodding encouragingly as if that would make her understand the command – she doesn’t react, simply blinking at you instead.

“Oh!” Jungkook exclaims suddenly and your eyes snap over to him, your eyebrows shooting up. “Lemme try again,” he says, taking the treat back from you before you reply, and he grabs Lori’s attention yet again. You don’t protest, dropping your hand back into your lap. “High five,” he tells her, holding up his hand for her to put her paw to.

She takes a moment to think, patters over to him.

“Yeah, high five!”

She nudges Jungkook’s palm with her nose, looks up at him expectantly.

Jungkook simply snorts. “Alright, just a handshake, then,” he corrects, extending his hand to her.

She just stares.

With a laugh, he gently takes her paw in his hand, shaking it. “Hey, good job, Lori!” he tells her through a chuckle, lowering the treat.

Lori jumps forward and snatches the treat away from in between his fingers, happily munching on it. You smile fondly at her as Lori climbs into Jungkook’s lap. He runs a hand over her short fur, blindly handing the bag of treats to you.

You take it from him, fishing out a treat and holding it out for Lori to eat – you don’t bother trying to figure out what other tricks she _ can’t _ do.

Lori pants happily, stretching out her neck so she can grab the treat from you without leaving Jungkook’s arms. You laugh, leaning forward to give her the treat while Jungkook ruffles her fur. “Such a talented dog, aren’t you?” you tell her, scratching underneath her chin. She holds it up higher so you can reach it better, her eyes closing slowly as she growls in content.

“So talented,” Jungkook confirms, nodding as he looks down at her. A bright smile teases over his lips as she licks his cheek, nudging it with her nose. “Speaking of,” he adds as he gently pushes her out of his face, “What kinda tricks does Christian have up his sleeve, huh?”

The question is out of the blue and you laugh in surprise, blinking up at him as your mind tries to catch up to his words. “What?” you blurt out a second later, lips parted in confusion.

Jungkook snickers, looking up at you as he plays with Lori’s floppy ears. “You haven’t told me more about last night.”

You bite your lip, closing up the bag of treats and putting it down on the floor next to you. “I mean, there really isn’t much more to it,” you reply with a shrug, tapping Lori’s nose. She turns to you, her big brown eyes stare back at you and she climbs out of Jungkook’s lap to patter over to you, settling on your thighs instead. “Like I said, we just did some over-the-clothes stuff, really.”

“There’s gotta be more to it than _ that _, right?” Jungkook says, his eyes fixed on Lori as he scootches closer, leaning forward to run a hand over her side. “He seemed pretty… anxious when he talked to me before he left this morning.”

You smile down at the dog, ruffling the fur on her body. Unbidden, you _ remember _ ; you remember the way Christian’s hands had felt on your body, the sheer heat of his touch burning into your skin. The way it seemed as though you could catch fire when his lips touched yours. You remember the overwhelming feeling of Christian and a sharp pang of _ missing _ echoes hollowly through you.

You close your eyes and try to dispel the softness of his eyes from your mind. “Why do you wanna know so badly?” you ask him instead, looking up at Jungkook through your lashes. “Got a crush on him, do you?” you add jokingly.

He snorts, looking down at the floor as he taps his fingers on it to call Lori back to his lap. You swear you can almost see red cheeks hidden behind the long hair that now falls over his face. “Well, I mean… I guess I’ve –” He pauses, leans down further to let Lori lick his chin and he laughs softly.

You raise your eyebrows – you expected him to simply cackle at your words and shake his head wildly to deny it, but the fact that he’s not doing anything to refute your assumption takes you by surprise, and you wait for him to continue.

“I guess I’ve always kinda, like… wondered?” He glances up at you almost timidly, quickly looks back down at Lori. A heavy, slightly shaky sigh escapes his lips as he shakes his head, and you realise he’s not going to say anything else unless you give him a little push.

“Wondered about what?” you ask gently, taking the treats back off the floor and opening up the bag.

He hums, shrugs. You hand him one of the treats and he smiles softly as he takes it from you, holding it up so it’s just out of Lori’s reach. “What it would be like, I guess?” He laughs to himself, shakes his head again.

Your heart skips a beat, you try to hide the fondness blossoming in your chest. You’ve rarely seen him this nervous, and you almost feel grateful he’s pushing through, that he trusts you enough to do so. “With Christian?” you encourage, glancing into the bag of treats as you shake them around in the package. Lori’s ears twitch but she doesn’t turn around, her wide eyes fixed on the treat Jungkook is holding right above her nose.

He chuckles softly and shakes his head again. “No, just… with –” He clears his throat, lets out a shaky sigh. “With a guy? Like, in general?” He lowers the treat between his fingers and lets Lori lick it out from his grip, she growls softly as he scratches underneath her chin. “And I guess Christian seems like a good choice,” he says softly, finishing on a laugh that you’re sure is meant to sound casual. To you, it seems nervous more than anything.

You smile softly. He doesn’t look at you, focuses on Lori instead to avoid your eyes. But you can see his face flushing red, you can hear him nervously clearing his throat again, you can see the way his fingers shake ever so subtly as he pets Lori’s head. Relief and fondness and protectiveness tangle inside you and fill you to the brim. You lean into him, your shoulder presses against his, he still doesn’t look at you. You take his hand, tangle your fingers with his as you rest it on your thigh.

He finally lifts his eyes to yours. There’s something vulnerable in the colour of them; it could simply be the lighting, but you can’t help feeling a fierce, overpowering sense of fondness for him. You lean closer, kissing the very tip of his nose. “He is,” you tell him as Lori settles in his lap, curling up on his thighs.

He lets out a breath; it’s sharp and short and sounds so very _ relieved _. He looks down at Lori, runs his hands through her short fur as a small smile teases over his lips. You press a soft kiss to his temple and his grin widens as you look down at Lori; it all seems right again.

You take out another treat with your free hand and hold it out to him. He glances up at you as he takes it from you. His cheeks are flushed a bright red, he’s chewing on his bottom lip as he shakes a lock of wavy hair out of his face.

“I’m –” you start, pausing when his eyebrows raise and his eyes glimmer with expectance. You sigh softly, sending him a reassuring smile. “I’m glad you told me, Kook,” you tell him gently, putting your other hand over his.

A small smile washes over his features as he sighs once more, his shoulders deflating as he feeds the treat to Lori. “Me too.”

* * *

**Mop Boy🥴**

Babe [14:25]

Babe [14:25]

Babe [14:25]

You snort, putting down the lily in your hand and momentarily abandoning the arrangement you’ve been working on. Picking up your phone, you quickly swipe to unlock it and type out a reply.

_ Aren’t you supposed to be working🧐 _ [14:26]

It doesn’t take long for him to send a response – your eyes flicker to the large windows, falling on the parlour across the street. You smile softly. _ Must be on a break. _

Christian is heading over [14:26]

Thought u might want a warning [14:27]

But the message has been rECEIVED. [14:27]

NEVER AGAIN WILL I SEND YOUR UNGRATEFUL ASS A TEXT. [14:27]

Your heart skips a beat and you look up again, eyes frantically scanning the pedestrians walking right outside until your gaze falls on a figure crossing the street, leather jacket stretching over muscly arms, a dark sweater peeking out from underneath. _ Oh, fuck. _

You hurriedly type out a reply to Jungkook, laughing and calling him a drama queen before you shove your phone back into your pocket, pretending to be busy with the bouquet on the counter. The cheerful bell that Eric is so fond of rings noisily and your heart skips a beat, you take a breath in an attempt to keep it from racing.

“Hey, Y/N.” Your head snaps up and you look at Christian as the door falls closed behind him. The way his lips curl into a soft smile pulls at your heartstrings; it’s almost as though you can feel the way they moved against your skin.

Shivers dance down your spine as you smile back at him. “Hi,” you return, straightening your back and composing yourself as he paces over to the counter. His footsteps are heavy on the tiled shop floor and it’s almost like they reverberate through you, echoing in your ears much more loudly than they should. “What are you doing here?” you ask, quickly pasting on a smile. “Aren’t I supposed to bring you the flowers?”

He chuckles softly and it somehow puts you at ease, the way it echoes brightly through the small shop. “And I appreciate it very much,” he returns, stopping right in front of the counter. “I’m actually here to buy some more?”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise, lips parting. “What, tired of getting all the rejects?” you joke in a veiled attempt to get rid of the strange, slightly awkward air hanging between the two of you, and you send him a small smile.

He laughs softly, briefly glancing down at his feet. “No, no, I’m very happy with those very non-reject-looking rejects,” he assures you as he looks up at you again, and you chuckle in response. “Jungkook’s actually working on a floral design and I thought he could use a real-life example, so I need some specific ones.”

You do your best not to melt at the way his lips quirk up, at the subtle but impressed glimmer in his eyes as he glances at the bouquet you’ve been putting together. “Oh, that’s nice of you!” you reply, and he turns back to you with the same gentle smile. “What flowers are you looking for?”

“The uh…” He looks over his shoulder at the parlour, clicking his tongue as he thinks. “I don’t really know what they’re called– the small white ones you brought with you last week?”

“Ah, I think those would be jasmines,” you reply, slipping out from behind the counter to take a bouquet that contains them, showing it to him. “These?”

His smile widens and he nods quickly. Silence falls as you walk back to the counter and he pulls out his wallet to pay for them, the nerves come back to hit you at full force.

You look up as you quietly tell him the price, trying to see if he’s feeling as awkward as you. He avoids your eyes, though, simply staring down into his wallet as he pulls out the cash and hands it to you, stuffing the change you hand him back inside. Should you bring up what happened? Should you apologise for leaving? _ Does he even mind? _

“Mister Christian Yu!” sounds a voice as the door to the back falls closed, and you turn to see Eric walking over to join him at the counter. _ Saved by the boss, I guess. _“It’s been a while, good to see you,” he adds, greeting him with a brief hug. “How you been, man?”

You turn back to the bouquet you’re arranging as Christian replies, “Good, good. It’s getting cold, though.”

Eric snorts as you pick up the lily and carefully slip it into the vase. “That’s what you get for driving a motorcycle instead of a car,” he teases, and Christian laughs in reply. You bite your tongue, trying to keep your cheeks from flushing as you’re reminded of the way he’d laughed right against your ear when you’d sat in his lap and kissed him.

You don’t even hear what Eric and Christian are talking about, too focused on trying not to show the way he affects you– it’s _ confusing _ and you feel like you could scream. He gives you the same warm feeling you get every time you see Jungkook, every time he smiles at you and touches you and kisses you – which makes it all the more frustrating.

“Well, I should get back to work,” you hear Christian say and you’re abruptly pulled out of your thoughts, your eyes flickering over to him as he carefully picks up the bouquet he bought, as if it would fall apart if he were to be too wild with it. “We should go for a drink again sometime, man,” he adds and for a _ second _ , your heart skips a beat; for a _ second _ , you think he means you. But when Eric replies instead, you let out a sharp breath and shake your head subtly, twirling a flower between your fingers. _ Get it together, you idiot. _

“I’ll see you guys around!”

You finally let yourself look up as Christian steps away from you, sending him a soft smile. “Bye,” you tell him and he nods at you, waving just once before he turns around. Your eyebrows draw together as his heavy footsteps echo in your ears again, nearing the exit, further and further away from you and you feel like you should say _ something _, like you should do something before he leaves because– “Christian, wait,” you blurt out before you quite realise what you’ve said.

Christian turns to look at you, his lips slightly parted and his eyebrows raised – if you didn’t know better, you’d say he looks _ hopeful _ . Time seems to slow for a second as your mind starts to race, trying to catch up to your _ stupid _ mouth because what the hell are you supposed to say now? You can’t exactly bring _ the night _ up now that Eric is here to hear everything.

“You uh…” you start, clearing your throat as you finally think of something. “I still have your keys from this weekend,” you tell him, at which his face clears up and he puts on a smile – his eyebrows stay furrowed for a moment longer, though, and you swear you can see his jaw tick.

Ignoring the thought, you bend down to rummage through your bag underneath the counter. You pull out your house keys, separating Christian’s keys from them and slipping them back into your bag. “Thanks,” he says lightly as you hand his keys to him, and he stuffs them in his pocket. “And thanks so much for taking care of Lori, by the way. I really appreciate it.”

You force yourself to look up at him and you nod, sending him a smile. As soon as his eyes catch yours, however, your mind flashes back to how he’d looked at you right before he kissed you, _ right before _… “Of course,” you reply before your mind can go too far. Your fingers curl up so that your nails press into your palm almost painfully, grounding you in reality. “She’s a sweet dog.”

He smiles brightly, nodding. “I think she’s really grown attached to you,” he replies and your heart skips a beat. “She seemed a little less enthusiastic to see me when I came home.”

You’re sure he’s just saying it to be nice, but it somehow warms your heart and your smile widens. “I’m sure she’ll go back to normal once she realises you’re the one giving her her food again,” you joke.

He laughs, shrugging – you’re almost proud of the fact that _ you _made him laugh this time. “Well, you never know,” he says, a tight grin teasing over his lips. “She might never fully move on.”

You laugh in response, fiddling with the flowers in front of you. Your eyes flicker over to Eric, who is going through each bucket of flowers to pick out wilting ones or the ones that need their water refreshed. “Then I guess I’ll have to visit her every now and then,” you reply, eyes diverting back to Christian.

He chuckles softly, looking down at the flowers in his hands and fidgeting with one of the small white jasmines. For a moment, you’re at a loss for words – he almost looks nervous, and you narrow your eyes. _ Should you…? _

“I uh…” He clears his throat, looks up at you and smiles, though it’s small and subtle and you can’t help but notice it looks almost pained – _ but it can’t be because of you. Maybe he’s just been missing Lori. _“I should get back to work.”

You nod quickly, sending him a smile as he turns around again and walks back to the exit. He waves goodbye to Eric as he opens the door, and he’s outside before you can call after him again.

You tear your eyes away from the windows as he crosses the street, focusing on the bouquet in front of you. Eric hums softly in the background and you’d normally be able to focus on work again, to fall back into the concentrated mindset you’re used to – but your mind keeps drifting, keeps reading things into Christian’s behaviour that are clearly too far-fetched.

Because if you didn’t know better, you’d think he were sad.

Concern tightens in your chest at the thought and you let out a slow breath, your eyes flickering back to the parlour. He couldn’t have been. _ Perhaps it’s just wishful thinking _, you assure yourself.

But even then, you’re left wondering why you would wish for that in the first place.

* * *

“Bye, Eric!” you call over your shoulder as you open the door. A gust of icy cold wind hits you in the face and you squeeze your eyes closed to keep them from watering too much, though they still sting with dryness.

“Bye, have a nice weekend!” comes the reply and you blindly wave at him over your shoulder, letting the door fall closed behind you. You bury your face into your scarf, fingers tightening around the flowers in your hands as you jog to cross the street before the green light turns to red.

The cursive _ Rome _ burns your pupils and you squint as you walk up to it, your heart starts to race yet again. Your fingers curl around the door handle and you take a breath, slowly blowing it back out in a small white cloud. Even though a full week has passed since you were at Christian’s apartment with him, your nerves haven’t faded away. Neither you nor Christian have mentioned it to each other, and you feel like the closest you’ve gotten to discussing it was the Monday he came to the shop to buy flowers. You’re almost _ jealous _ of the fact that he talked to Jungkook about it the day after it happened.

You let out another sigh and push open the door. Regardless of what you feel, you’ve been pretending like nothing has happened; since Christian has been doing the same, you can only assume he thinks it’s the right way to go, too.

The door’s hinges creak as you step inside, the door falling closed behind you with a heavy thud. You look to the counter and let out a relieved breath – Jungkook is already there, typing something into the computer while Christian is right behind him, bent over a black binder. They both look over to you and you smile. “Hi, guys,” you say and they both return your greeting in unison, laughing at each other in amusement.

You walk over to the counter and put down the flowers, pulling out some of the wilting ones out of the vase first. “How was your day?” Jungkook asks softly, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips, and he reaches up to tug a strand of hair behind your ear. Even the small gesture is comforting, it softens the sharp nerves eating away at your insides, and you can’t help but smile as you put down a wilting lily.

“It was fine,” you reply, replacing the lily by slipping in a begonia. The collection of flowers is as colourful as ever even though it seems the cold winter has permeated every aspect of life in the city. You’re momentarily lost in the sea of colour, trying to sort through each of them to pick out the dying flowers. “Yours?” you add, glancing up at him.

“Fine,” Jungkook replies with a shrug. “Christian’s been bullying me all day, though,” he adds with a pout, pulling a chuckle from the man right behind him.

You gasp, raising an eyebrow at Christian. “He has?” you inquire in an overly offended tone.

Christian looks up at you with an innocent smile, shrugging. “I plead not guilty.”

Jungkook lets out a protesting yelp, looking over his shoulder to glare at Christian, and you laugh at the way Christian challengingly quirks an eyebrow at him. “Tell that to my wounded heart,” he huffs, turning back to you – you can’t help but laugh along with Christian, and Jungkook pouts at you. “Not you, too.”

You bite on your bottom lip to hold back your laughter, though some of it still slips out and Jungkook snorts at you. “Look, I have no idea what this is about, so I think I’m allowed to _ laugh _.”

“I told you, this is about bullying!” Jungkook insists despite the grin curling at his lips, his own amusement breaking through. “But I guess neither of you care about my feelings,” he adds with a huff, turning back to the parlour’s computer to continue typing.

You laugh once more, playfully pinching his cheek. “I’m very sorry for hurting your fragile soul, Kook,” you tell him, at which he laughs for only a moment before he plasters the mock-annoyed look back on his face. “And I’m sure Christian is also very, very sorry. Right, Yu?”

You look over at Christian, who glances up at you and grins, shrugging. He acts so casually that you’d almost think he doesn’t even remember the night you spent with him, and you can’t help but feel a little down because of it. Are you just that forgettable? _ Shit, what if he thinks it’s a drunken mistake, never to be discussed again? _

“Look, if Jungkook wants to abandon his work colleagues for _ friendship _ , that’s his prerogative,” Christian says, and you quickly shake yourself out of your thoughts. You shouldn’t be that bothered by them anyway – _ it was just a fleeting moment of intimacy, _ you insist. _ Nothing more, nothing less _ . You shouldn’t even be looking for something else with him, _ especially _ not when you’re dating Jungkook, who makes your heart race and your cheeks flush, who makes you so happy you could burst. “But the consequences of such _ unacceptable _behaviour aren’t on me,” he adds with a teasing smile. He jovially pats Jungkook’s shoulder, squeezes once – Jungkook simply snorts and smiles, shaking his head.

You raise your eyebrows at Jungkook, abandoning the flowers for a moment to lean towards him, your chin in your hands. “Now, what’s this all about?” you ask him, tilting your head. “How could you do this to them?”

Jungkook simply snorts again, raising an eyebrow at you. “Of all people, I didn’t think you could abandon me like this, Y/N,” he shoots back, sighing dramatically. “Namjoon’s just really busy, I can’t cancel on him for a work dinner when it’s his only night off this month.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say,” you shoot back, shaking your head in disappointment. Christian chuckles in the background, turning back to the binder.

Jungkook’s feigned annoyance dissipates abruptly, and it’s replaced by a smug smirk that washes over his features. “Why don’t you go in my place, then?” he returns, tilting his head at you. “As my… representative.”

Your eyes widen for a moment but you quickly compose yourself – just in time to look normal when Christian looks up from the binder. “I don’t know what universe you live in, babe, but I don’t work here,” you reply sweetly, pasting on a bright smile.

He just smiles right back, shrugging – it’s like he’s silently challenging you to take this on, to accept the offer when Christian himself hasn’t even invited you. You’re sure he wouldn’t want you there, you’re _ sure _ he’ll tell Jungkook to cut it out in a moment or two. “And I don’t know what universe you live in, but I don’t think you have to work here to be my representative, _ honeybun _,” Jungkook simply insists, eyes glinting mischievously as he turns to look over his shoulder. “Right, Christian? Wouldn’t she be welcome?”

Christian blinks at Jungkook, a beat of silence falls – for a second, you think he’s going to refuse like you think he would. But then he clears his throat, he smiles– and he _ nods _. “Sure,” he replies, looking over at you. You almost feel like whining at both him and Jungkook, like burying your face into your hands and shaking your head. Of course, you don’t do any of it, simply keeping up a calm front. “The more, the merrier, right?”

“See?” says Jungkook, turning back to you. Christian clears his throat once more and focuses on the binder again, his pen hovering over the paper – you take the opportunity to glare at Jungkook.

He simply stares back, nodding silently as if he’s trying to tell you something. “This is your chance,” he says pointedly, and you finally realise what he means. _ Oh, right, you wanted to come onto him again and spend the fucking night with him. Again. _ “Get drunk on the company dime,” Jungkook adds cheekily, and you can’t help but laugh softly. You’re sure he noticed the way you tensed up at the realisation and you’re grateful for the interjection.

Christian snorts, shaking his head. “Get _ food _ on the company dime,” he corrects, glancing up from the binder yet again. His eyes catch yours and for a moment, everything seems to freeze. Your heart beats in your ears; it’s like he stares right through you. For the first time in a week, you see something in his eyes that makes you frown. It’s something you can’t quite put your finger on, but it sends you back to the way he’d looked at you when you were in his lap just a week ago; something heavy, not entirely readable, but something that makes your heart stutter anyway.

It’s gone almost as soon as it appeared, though. You clear your throat, tearing your eyes away from Christian. “Sure, sounds like fun,” you reply with a small smile, looking up at Jungkook.

_ Just when you thought the weekend would give you a chance to regroup… _

* * *

“I can’t do it,” you breathe out, shaking your head. Your hand tightens around Jungkook’s as he laughs, playfully bumping into your side and pressing a kiss to your temple. “Seriously, Kook, I can’t. It’s too weird.”

“What would be weird about it?” he returns as you come to an abrupt stop, only a few steps away from RaMen. He moves to stand in front of you, brushing some stray hairs off your forehead. “You almost slept with the guy, didn’t you?”

You huff. “That’s exactly it!” you hiss, glaring up at him. The fucker that got you into this position in the first place. “He hasn’t even so much as mentioned it, Jungkook.” You sigh shakily, eyes flickering over to the restaurant as if Christian would suddenly appear at the entrance and kill you with a simple glance. “He probably doesn’t even want to have anything to do with me.”

Jungkook sighs softly, his index lightly traces your cheekbone and you unconsciously lean into his touch. His finger is cold from the crisp winter air and it helps ground you, helps get rid of the thoughts racing through your head. “Okay, firstly, he didn’t exactly seem disgusted when he talked to me about it,” he starts, his voice so soft it’s barely audible over the wind howling in your ears.

You sigh, nodding slowly. You can’t deny it was thoughtful of Christian, to talk it over with Jungkook make sure it was all good, and it is at least _ slightly _ reassuring to know that he didn’t seem disgusted. But, at the same time, you also can’t help but think– if he could talk to Jungkook about it, _ why not you? _

“And secondly, why would he invite you if he doesn’t want anything to do with you, hm?” Jungkook adds, smiling reassuringly.

You let out a sharp breath, glaring up at him. “Charity,” you deadpan.

Jungkook laughs and you’d think it would only piss you off – but despite your will to stand your ground and keep glaring at him, you can’t help the smile that breaks through. _ He shouldn’t be allowed to be this cute. _ “Then just forget about him, eat some free food, have a good time with the others, and go home without him at the end of the night,” he says, his hand soothingly rubbing your upper arm. “You’ll be fine, Y/N. Worst case scenario, I’ll just _ have _to eat you out tomorrow,” he adds, grinning at you.

You purse your lips to keep your smile at bay, _ trying _ to glare up at him. He snickers at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, thumb tracing over your hot cheeks. And no matter how many worries are still swirling through your mind, you know he’s right. It’s not like you’ll be alone with Christian all night – if he can keep his distance, you can, too.

Deep down, you feel a sensation of discomfort at that thought. You don’t like the idea of _ just _ being casual with him, especially not in a setting like this. You want more than that– you want his arms tight around your waist, you want to pull him close, you want to kiss him.

_ Though, isn’t that exactly what you’re here for? _

“Fine,” you huff finally, not putting in the effort of fighting your smile when Jungkook beams at you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sure you’ll have a great time,” he assures you as his hand slips back down.

You let him tangle his fingers with yours and pull you further towards the restaurant. “Sure, says the guy that’ll be abandoning me for the night,” you shoot back, playfully elbowing him.

He chuckles, elbowing you right back as he opens the door for you and you step inside. “Not you, too.”

You simply grin up at him, shrugging as he puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side. You’ll admit, the familiar atmosphere of the restaurant puts you at ease. It’s warm and a little humid inside, your fingers and toes are starting to tingle as the blood rushes back to your extremities. Loud chatter rings in your ears; people are laughing, chopsticks clink against porcelain. You have to blink a few times to get used to the low lighting, though you happily breathe in the smell of ramen broth and fried chicken as you wrap your arm around Jungkook’s torso.

“Last chance to get out,” he jokes and you glare at him, narrowing your eyes when he smiles innocently. “Kidding. You obviously sealed your fate when you stepped in here.” You wordlessly narrow your eyes further at him, pursing your lips to keep yourself from smiling, even when he giggles in amusement and pinches your cold nose. “_ Kidding _,” he insists, kissing your temple.

“You better be,” you reply, tilting your head towards him so you can press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Or I’ll come and haunt you on your night out with Namjoon.”

He laughs against your lips. His forehead falls forward to rest against yours, his nose pressing into your cheek. His hair brushes over your skin and you sigh once more, a shiver runs down your spine. “Call me if you need me, okay?” he mutters, kissing you once more to leave you to simply hum in reply.

“I’ll be fine,” you tell him as he pulls back, and you’re finally actually starting to believe it yourself. It’s not like you’re in completely unknown territory here. “Don’t worry about me, just go and have fun.”

He smiles at you and nods. “Yes, ma’am,” he replies jokingly, arm tightening around your shoulder for a moment before his grip loosens again. “As long as you do the same.”

You can’t help but snort. “I’ll try.”

Jungkook grins down at you and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively – suddenly, you’re suddenly reminded of _ the goddamn bet _. “Ha, I bet you –”

“Ah, Jungkook, hey!” Namjoon chirps suddenly, waving at you as he approaches. “Perfect timing! I was just about to text you, I’m all done.”

“Awesome, let’s get going, then,” Jungkook replies with a smile, turning back to you to quickly peck your lips in goodbye. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” he says, fumbling with the ends of your hair.

You nod quickly, putting on your best smile even though you can feel nerves starting to bubble low in your belly. “Have fun,” you add, sending both of them a smile.

Namjoon grins happily at you. “You, too,” he replies, nodding; his smile is lopsided, almost cheeky, and you get the feeling he knows more than he’s letting on. “They’re at the table against that wall, by the way, you can’t miss ‘em,” he adds, thrusting his thumb over his shoulder. You look into the direction he’s pointing, already recognising Jaebeom as he leans back in his seat and sips from his glass.

You nod quickly, sending Namjoon and Jungkook a smile. “Well, I’ll leave you guys to it, then,” you tell them, clearing your throat as you step out of Jungkook’s embrace. It somehow makes the nerves worse, but you push on and tell them goodbye once more.

You wave at Jungkook as he follows Namjoon to the door, receiving a thumbs up in response and you can’t help but laugh. Letting out a sigh, you watch him turn and walk out of sight as he happily chats with Namjoon, and you whirl around to finally walk over to the table.

You spot a bottle of sake next to Hyuna as you make your way over and the presence of both somehow reassures you – your smile is a little more genuine than you expected when you get to the table.

“Jeon’s representative, hello and welcome to this very serious company meeting!” Jaebeom greets you happily and you laugh, willing yourself not to look at Christian. At least not _ right away _.

“Thank you, thank you,” you reply as you sit down next to Hyuna, slipping out of your coat – _ did it have to be right across from Christian? Really? _ You can’t help but glance at him, catching him already looking at you. He smiles softly, you smile back.

“Drinking tonight?” Hyuna asks, holding up the bottle of sake.

You laugh and nod eagerly. “Oh, one hundred percent,” you reply through a chuckle, holding up your glass so she can pour the rice wine into it.

You throw it all back as the conversation picks back up. Hyuna laughs and wordlessly pours you another glass, and you thank her with a smile. You push away the nerves in the pit of your stomach and simply listen to the story of Jaebeom’s cats somehow opening his bedroom door on their own. The heavy load weighing on your shoulders seems to grow lighter every time you laugh, and you sigh softly as you take another sip of rice wine.

_ You can do this _ , you decide. _ It’s just dinner. _

* * *

A gust of cold wind hits you as you follow everyone outside, leaving the loud chatter and the warmth of the restaurant behind you. The cold shocks your system and your mind clears almost instantly; you still feel a little tipsy, a little drowsy, but the haziness in your mind seems to have dissipated. You sink into your coat in an attempt to preserve some body heat, burying your hands into your pockets.

“Hey, you guys wanna have a drink at that new bar a few blocks away from here?” Jaebeom offers in his slow drawl. Both Christian and Hyuna seem to agree enthusiastically, nodding and grinning in reply.

Jaebeom looks to you for an answer, smiling kindly – you blink for a moment, fighting through your drowsiness to muster up a reply. “I think I should head home, I’m a little tired,” you say with an apologetic smile. “Thanks, though.”

He nods quickly. “No worries, there’s always a next time,” he replies with a grin, winking at you.

You simply laugh in response. “Sounds good,” you return with a nod, stuffing your hands further into your pockets. “Have a good night, then,” you add, already taking a step back and taking one hand out of your coat to wave at them. The cold night air bites at your skin, wakes you up more and more and you’re starting to shiver.

“See you around!” sounds the reply. “Get home safe!”

You turn around, throwing a quick ‘you, too!’ over your shoulder before trudging through the cold air. You stare down at your feet, gritting your teeth to keep them from clattering as you head back to your apartment– “Hey, lemme drive you home.”

Your heart stutters and you practically gasp as you turn to look up at Christian, who has fallen into step next to you. You look over your shoulder to see Jaebeom and Hyuna heading the opposite way, their voices and laughter echoing through the street, mingling with the chatter of the people they pass. He simply smiles down at you, his eyes glimmering even in the harsh streetlights and you have to remind yourself not to get lost in them, that he’s _ not fucking interested _ in you anyway.

“Don’t you want to join the others?” you blurt out, glancing behind you once more as his colleagues disappear into the crowd behind you. “I can get home safe, it’s just a few minutes away.”

He quickly shakes his head. “It’s okay, I’m tired too,” he replies.

You don’t quite believe him, especially because he seemed happy to join Jaebeom at the bar just moments earlier, but you don’t dwell on it. You’re not here to make those decisions for him. “I uh… didn’t you drink?” you say nonetheless, eyes flickering to his motorcycle as you come to a stop next to it. You can’t remember how many times exactly you’d daydreamed of sitting on the back of it and driving off with him, but now that the option is right in front of you…

“Don’t worry,” he replies with a small smile, slipping out his helmet from underneath his arm and holding it out to you. “I just had one glass, it’s all good.”

You hesitate, glancing down at the helmet. The shiny black surface glints in the yellow streetlights shining down on you, and you see your own reflection blinking back at you.

A sudden surge of pure _ fuck it _ rushes through you and you sigh, nodding and taking the helmet from him. Even if he’s not interested, you might as well get a quick ride home.

He grins at you and your heart flutters, the cold wind plays with your hair and you shiver. He turns to unwind the chain lock from the back wheel and you bite your lip, looking down at the helmet once more as he slips the lock into the side bag. “Hop on,” he simply says, swinging one leg over the bike and sitting down on the saddle.

Your mind starts to run with his words and your cheeks burn; you quickly shove the helmet over your head, hoping to hide them from sight. You sit down right behind him, instinctively leaning forward and wrapping your arms around his torso as he revs the engine – his muscles tense underneath you. Before you can wonder why, the bike shoots forward and you tighten your grip around him, pulling yourself closer.

Even now that you’re driving and wind is whipping past you, you’re overwhelmed by his scent. Your eyes flutter closed and you bite your tongue, trying to keep the flood of memories from washing over you and drowning your consciousness. They overwhelm you nevertheless; the feeling of his arms wrapped tightly around you, of your chest pressed to his, of him kissing you softly and eagerly and so _ intensely _. Something tightens around your lungs and you force yourself to breathe in, though the tight feeling doesn’t quite fade. You want to hold him like that again, just to see. Just to see if it really was just the heat of the moment, if it was just a one-time feeling rather than something lasting. Just to –

The bike abruptly comes to a stop and you lift your head, blinking a few times before you realise you’re already in front of your apartment building, before you realise you should probably let go of him before it gets weird.

Clearing your throat, you quickly drop your arms to your sides, jumping off the bike while he does the same. You silently take the helmet off your head, letting him take it from your hands and slip it back underneath his arm. You let out a soft sigh, pursing your lips as you flatten your hair with your hands, looking at the ground. _ Come on, say something. Anything would be great here. _

“Uh… thanks for the invite, by the way,” you quickly blurt out, putting on a small smile as you look up at him. He returns the sentiment and you bite your lip, crossing your arms. “And the ride home.”

He nods in response, shifting the helmet in his arms so that he holds it to his chest. “Of course,” he replies quietly, keeping his eyes on yours as he takes a breath in, a breath out, his lips part and it seems like he wants to say something– but he quickly shuts his mouth, clearing his throat and putting on a smile. “Thanks for coming.”

You swear you can see his cheeks flush ever so subtly as he looks down at the helmet, and your heart skips a beat. The sake swirling through your brain shuts up the pessimistic side of you and you can’t help but think– he might not be _ dis _interested. Maybe, if you just try…

“Hey, uhm…” You clear your throat, he looks up at you. You recognise the look in his eyes – it’s the same one you saw on Monday. The one you thought was hope. _ Maybe… _“I think I still owe you some tequila,” you blurt out before you can regret it. Your lungs force a sharp breath out of you and your heart starts to beat against your ribs as you look up at him, waiting for an answer.

He blinks, his lips part again as he seems to process the words. Silence cloaks your surroundings – that, or everything just mutes around you as you wait for an answer. _ Maybe you really are just seeing things where there’s nothing. Maybe he really isn’t interested, maybe it really was just momentary. Maybe you really are just that stupid. _

“I thought you were tired,” he finally replies, a small, sheepish smile curling at his lips.

You can’t help but chuckle, glancing down at your feet before looking up at him again. “The drive kinda woke me up,” you confess, sending him a smile. “So? You wanna come up?”

You have no idea where the bravery is coming from all of a sudden, and you don’t quite know if you like it or not. But you remain silent as you wait for an answer, carefully watching the way his expression changes in response; yet again, you can’t seem to get a read on him, though, and you hold back a frustrated sigh.

“Sure, why not.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and you put on a smile to hide your surprise, to mask the rush of relief that spreads through your veins. You can’t help another sharp breath from escaping you as he turns to lock up his bike, and you pinch rather than slap your cheeks to silently get yourself together, to keep your mind from racing.

“Lead the way,” Christian says as he turns around again and your arms quickly drop back to your sides.

You nod silently, leading him into your apartment building and up the countless sets of stairs. You’re silent as you make your way up, and the only indication that he’s still following is the sound of his footsteps echoing through the concrete stairwell. You don’t quite know what you should even be talking about, if you should still bring up what happened, or if you should just continue ignoring it. _ God dammit, why does your ability to just _ talk _ just decide to disappear when you need it the most? _

You’re almost relieved when you arrive at the top floor, and you eagerly walk down the corridor to get to your front door, digging around in your pocket for the keys. “Jungkook said he’d be out pretty much all night, so I don’t think he’s home,” you tell Christian even though you don’t quite know why you felt the need to tell him that.

He simply nods, smiling softly at your hands as you clumsily fumble with your keys. You keep your eyes downcast as you turn them in the lock, painfully aware of the way his eyes seem to burn into your side.

“Welcome to our humble abode,” you say jokingly as the door swings open to your apartment – at least you’re on home turf this time. Christian laughs and you take a breath, feeling your tense shoulders relax. “Make yourself comfortable.”

You quickly slip out of your coat and head over to the kitchen while he slips out of his shoes and puts his helmet next to them. He walks over to the couch, not-so-subtly looking around. “Nice place,” he remarks and you smile at him over your shoulder, opening the cupboard where you keep your alcohol.

“Thanks, we try,” you reply as Christian sits down on the couch. Your eyes flit around the room. The place is not a complete mess, you note with relief, though the dishes on the coffee table could’ve been cleaned up, much like the stack of envelopes and flyers on the ground next to it, and Jungkook could most definitely have put his PlayStation controllers away. _ Oh well. _ “I’d say we’re usually a lot cleaner, but…” you trail off, hand closing around the tequila on the bottom shelf.

He chuckles, waving away your words. “Oh, don’t worry,” he assures you as you take out the bottle and close the cupboard. “I’ve most definitely seen worse,” he replies, following you with his eyes as you walk over to the couch and plop down next to him. His gaze flickers down to your hands as you twist the cap off the bottle, and he raises an eyebrow as he looks back up at you. “What, no glasses?”

You send him a sheepish smile as you put the cap on the coffee table. “It’s house policy not to create dirty dishes when you don’t have to,” you reply, taking a swig of tequila. Your face contorts as you swallow quickly, letting the tequila burn down your throat.

He laughs, taking the bottle when you hand it to him and taking a large sip. “How do you keep track of how much you’ve had, then?” he asks, coughing into the back of his hand as he hands the bottle back to you.

You grin, shrugging. “You get a feel for it once you’ve crossed the line a few times,” you simply reply.

He laughs again, sitting forward to take off his jacket. You watch him from the corner of your eye, letting out a shaky breath. _ Thank fuck for baggy sweaters. _ “That almost sounds dangerous,” he remarks as he gently puts his jacket over the armrest of the couch, taking the bottle out of your hands to throw back another swig of tequila.

Your grin widens and you shrug once more. The discomfort, the awkwardness that hung between you, keeping you apart, separated somehow, seems to have faded away almost entirely; now, it’s almost as if you’re simply visiting him at the parlour at the end of a long day, just talking to him without much of a care. “Look, at least you save yourself the trouble of having to do the dishes when you’re hungover as hell and you just wanna sleep,” you shoot back, snatching the bottle out of his hand and throwing back some more tequila.

He raises an eyebrow at you, an amused smile teased over his lips. “Careful with that, there. You might offer to take a shot off my dick again.”

You choke on your shot, coughing and wheezing when the tequila burns your nose and windpipe – _ did he really just…? _

Christian laughs softly, taking the bottle from your hands so you can double over without making a mess, and he pats your back as you catch your breath. “You –” You fall back into another coughing fit, and you resort to hitting your chest in an attempt to speed up the recovery process. “You remember that?” you wheeze, blinking up at him.

He snickers at you. “Come on, we weren’t_ that _ drunk,” he replies, rubbing your back. “Plus, it’s not every day that someone offers to pair your precome with tequila, you know,” he adds, amused. His hand stills when you finally take a breath without having to force it in, and you carefully sit up, cautiously inhaling once more. The tequila still leaves behind a burning sensation and you sniff, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling in your nose. The warmth from his hand seeps through your shirt – and yet, an involuntary shiver shoots down your spine.

You cough once more, heaving a sigh when the burning starts to subside; now, the tequila has only left behind an extra shot of bravery, and you shrug at him. “Look, all I’m saying is that it could work,” you shoot back, voice still a little hoarse, and you hold up two hands in defense. _ Perhaps _ you should be feeling a little more shame at the thought of what you’re suggesting – problem is, you don’t.

His eyebrows shoot up and he leans back, his hand lifting from your back. The spot feels cold all of a sudden, and you fight the urge to lean closer and seek out his touch again. “Oh, really?” he simply inquires, his amusement seeming to grow by the second.

There’s an added glint in his eye this time, though – one that makes you think he’s hinting at the same thing you are, and it only serves to embolden you. “Yeah,” you return confidently, mirroring the smugness you’ve picked up from Jungkook over the years, and you lean back to await his reply.

He chuckles, holding out the bottle of tequila to you. “Okay, then prove it.”

You choke on your own spit, taken aback by the words, and you momentarily lose your tongue. Still, despite it all, you feel a shot of competitiveness running through you, an added rush of heat searing at your skin.

He raises an eyebrow, his stare feels scorching hot and your heart pounds in your chest. It might not be how you thought your night was going to go – but you definitely do not mind it heading in this direction.

“Alright,” you reply, grabbing the bottle out of his hands. “Get me some precome, then.”

He blinks at you and lets out a dazed laugh, watching as you slide off the couch and settle on your knees in front of him. You put the bottle behind you and tap at the insides of his knees. He spreads them wider almost automatically and you shuffle forward, settling between his legs. His lips part and you can see his eyes darken as he watches you, your heart beating hard and fast as you stare back up at him.

“Well?” you say, raising your eyebrows at him as you lean your elbows on his knees, resting your head on your intertwined hands.

He blinks again, seems to jolt out of a daze. He lets out a laugh that sounds strangely strained, leaning his head against the backrest as he shakes it, staring up at the ceiling. “Here I was, trying to make you back out…” he mutters.

You grin up at him. “I never fucking back out,” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow at him.

He lifts his head to look at you once more, a small, amused smile curling at his lips. “We’re really doing this?” he all but breathes out, and the words mix together with the nerves, the excitement bubbling in your belly.

You keep up a calm front, however, and you simply shrug. “You asked me to,” you return casually, his eyes dark as they gaze into yours.

He blinks, the darkness ebbs away slightly and he simply laughs. “Alright,” he mutters, reaching over to grab a throw pillow off the couch and tossing it into your lap. “But we’re not gonna have any injuries here.”

With a snort, you take the pillow and put it underneath your knees. You wiggle in your spot, readjusting yourself as you lean against Christian’s calf. “How long exactly are you planning on taking?” you tease, looking up at him with a grin and trying to keep your eyes _ up there _ as you hear him open his zipper. You can’t help but glance down as he takes out his cock, your heart skipping a beat. _ Yep, okay, alright. You’re really doing this. _

He raises an eyebrow at you, spitting into his hand before he wraps it around his cock. “It’s called biology, Y/N,” he shoots back, a small smile curling at his lips as he sinks further into the couch, further into his hoodie.

“Is that code for ‘I’m an old geezer’?” you ask, innocently batting your eyes.

He breathes a laugh. “Fucking brat,” he mumbles as he presses his thumb against his slit and pulls in slow, absentminded motions on the length of his cock. You grin and dig your elbows into his thighs as you watch his hand move. His cock fills steadily and you can’t keep yourself from looking at the way he wraps his fingers around it. Heat streaks through your body when you realise that this is the first time you’ve actually _ seen _his cock. The tip is flushed dark, and thick veins run down the length of it. 

You look up at Christian, whose eyes don’t seem to have left yours at all. You blink slowly, staring up at him with parted lips. Your mind feels hazy. His stare alone is overwhelming and you freeze underneath him, your heart races. The look in his eyes sends you back to a mere week ago, and it’s like you feel his lips trailing up your neck again, his fingers tight around your hips, his hard cock rubbing up against your clothed clit. Heat pools between your thighs and you squirm, your breath comes out shakily.

“Nervous?” he teases lowly, running his thumb right underneath the head of his cock. He tilts his head slowly, raises his eyebrow almost like he’s taunting you, and you can feel your cheeks burning, heart hammering against your ribs. You can’t seem to _ think _, let alone reply.

He reaches out, his fingers brush over your skin as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. A shiver runs down your spine, electricity dances over your skin and you swallow. His touch helps you flutter back down to earth and you blink, taking a breath. “‘M fine,” you reply finally, sending him a small smile. “Just got distracted,” you add lowly, shuffling forward.

Christian hums lowly, his chest rising and falling erratically as he keeps stroking his hardening cock. “Distracted, huh?” he mumbles, a small smirk curling at his lips. His voice is low, it buzzes in your ears.

You smile lazily, shrugging. “Maybe,” you admit reluctantly, watching as his fingers tighten around the base of his cock. You realise that your own fingers would barely manage to wrap around it and a shiver races down your spine. You bite your lip, adjusting your elbows on his thighs. You can feel the muscles twitch underneath you as he runs his hand up.

Your eyes flicker up again and for a moment, you can’t look away from him. There’s something magnetic in the dark look of his eyes, in the way his lips part the slightest bit as he breathes harshly. You tear your eyes away from him, gaze flickering down to his cock. Your jaw goes slack, you watch hungrily as his fingers run over his shaft, tracing languidly over the thick veins. Heat sears at your skin and it clouds your mind again. Slightly dazed, almost dreamy, you reach out and run the tip of your index along the base of it – his hand stutters and he breathes out sharply.

You glance up at him from underneath your lashes, something hot tightens in your chest at the way he sucks in his bottom lip. You trace your finger further up, mesmerised by the way his eyes flutter as he draws in yet another breath. “Tease,” he huffs.

The word sends a burst of satisfaction through you and you can’t help but grin. “Well, I can’t exactly suck it yet, can I?” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow at him.

He hums, it almost sounds like a growl and your heart skips a beat, an electric feeling races up your spine. “You know, you can also just take the fucking shot with salt like a normal person.”

_ God, you want to. _ “But I’ve had way too much sodium lately,” you reply instead, grinning at the way he huffs and slumps against the couch, his hand tightening ever so slightly around his cock. The annoyed breath that comes out sounds like a low moan and your body floods with heat, it sizzles over your skin and you sigh shakily. _ You want to, you want _ him _ . _

You shuffle forward just a little more, leaning in to replace your finger with your tongue, pressing it flat against his shaft and slowly running upwards. He lets out a startled breath, his head shoots up and he stares at you, his pupils blown out. You smirk up at him and grip the base of his cock, noting dazedly that your fingers don’t meet. His hand drops to his side, you run your tongue along the underside of the head and he breathes out sharply.

It gives you a rush of confidence, seeing how he’s reacting to this because of _ you _, seeing the way the overwhelming, overpowering side of him falters as you press a kiss to his cock, running your tongue over the head. It spurs you on; you want to see more of him like this, open and vulnerable. You lick up his cock again, following one of the veins.

His fingers knot in your hair and tighten their grip. Electricity dances across your skin and travels down, settles low in your belly. Your panties grow wet, they cling to you and you shift uncomfortably, suppressing a whine when the fabric rubs ever so lightly against your clit.

He chuckles, pulls at your hair again and your heart stutters. A wave of something burning hot washes over you, overwhelms you and your eyes flutter closed for a moment. Your hand lazily strokes up his shaft as you press your lips to the base. His fingers pull at your hair once more; it’s only brief, but the quick sting of pain does more than enough to wake you from your daze.

“You getting off on teasing me?” he huffs, disbelief drips off his voice. You squirm again as wetness pools between your thighs, soaks through your panties. A high-pitched whine escapes you involuntarily, and your eyes flicker up to his to check if he heard. He raises an eyebrow, his jaw clenches, and your heart skips a beat. “Getting all wet and horny from making me suffer, hm?”

Something fiery flickers over his face and your heart drops, your chest tightens. There’s an undeniable heat that transfers, too, and you take in a shuddering breath, your cheeks burning. “You offered,” you blurt out, stumbling over your words, stumbling over your thoughts.

He laughs lowly, his tongue runs along the inside of his bottom lip and _ God _, you wish you could kiss it, you wish you could let him render you as breathless as he did when he first kissed you on his couch. “I didn’t exactly think you’d be able to hold out, considering how desperate you were for my cock a week ago,” he returns. The ending of his sentence comes out choked as you trail open-mouthed kisses along his cock.

You’d be offended if he wasn’t so _ right _ . You glance up to huff at him, leaning back in to run your tongue along a throbbing vein. His grip on your hair tightens as you move further up, tease the underside of the head _ again _ and he moans breathily. The sound ignites something electric, something dark inside of you and your heart starts to race, beating so hard that you think he might as well hear it.

Your tongue runs along the underside of the head once more and you let yourself be swept away by the way his moan buzzes through you, by the way his fingers pull at the roots of your hair and make them sting painfully, goosebumps prickling at your skin– when your tongue gathers up something wet, something salty and your eyes pop open, you freeze.

“Jesus, finally,” Christian mutters under his breath.

You can’t help but smile, leaning back ever so slightly and breathing out sharply when you see the precome dribbling down his cock. _ Finally, indeed. _

You blindly, hastily reach for the bottle of tequila behind you as your eyes flicker up to his. Your body heats under his stare and your cheeks burn, you notice your core is throbbing with need just when your fingers close around cold glass.

Your face feels hot as you lean forward, your heart jackhammering against your ribs, impatience making you jittery. Christian’s warm fingers run through your hair and you glance up at him, catch the small smirk curling at his lips. “Desperate brat’s back,” he teases and you huff at him, scowling as you run your thumb along the underside of the head, careful not to wipe away the precome that keeps drooling from the slit.

“Take it as a compliment,” you return, wasting no time in leaning forward and sucking his cock into your mouth.

Christian lets out a choked moan as you run your tongue over the smooth head, over his slit to collect as much precome as you can – his nails graze your scalp as his fingers curl up into a fist, as you taste the bitter, salty flavour of him. It’s intoxicating, the heat that rushes through you as you tongue his slit, the way you feel his thighs and his fingers twitch. You have to force yourself to pull away long enough to take a swig of tequila.

It barely starts to sear your throat when you let out a desperate whine, leaning back to take his cock into your mouth once more. It’s like the burn from the tequila spreads throughout your body, sizzles at your skin until the tips of your fingers are tingling with heat. You blindly put the bottle aside; it’s a miracle it doesn’t topple over, but you don’t have time to think about it. It feels like you’ve been waiting for centuries to taste him, to feel his cock, and you push yourself down on him, desperate to feel _ more _. You run your tongue over his shaft as the head hits the back of your throat. Your lips stretch around his cock, and you relax your jaw.

Christian moans and your heart stutters, his fingers tighten in your hair and send a continuous stream of tingles down your spine. “Y-you forgot the lime,” he breathes out, his voice shaky.

You almost laugh onto his cock, but you’ve taken him too far down and so you only gag, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. You pull away from him quickly, taking a slow breath and coughing, though a chuckle escapes you despite it all. It feels like the tequila is still burning your throat, remnants of heat spreading through your veins as you half laugh, half cough into the back of your hand, slowly stroking his cock with your other hand. It shines slightly with your spit and the mere _ idea _of it streaks hotly through your veins.

His fingers thread through your hair and gently tilt your head up so you’re looking up at him, his eyebrows drawn together into a soft frown. “You okay?” he asks, the beginnings of a smile curling at his lips when he sees you’re smiling, too. His hair is messy, his cheeks flushed and his eyes are half-lidded as he looks down at you, his pupils blown out. It somehow comforts you, the fact that he seems to be as affected by all this as you are.

You cough again, your throat feels rough. “Yeah, fine,” you reply, wiping your spit off your chin. “Besides the fact that I almost choked on your _ inhuman _ dick,” you joke, raising an eyebrow at him.

His smirk widens, it spreads over his face. “Serves you right for teasing me like that,” he mutters. His voice is low and rough, and the words almost come out in a single exhale.

His finger trails from your temple over the side of your face, sending sparks of electricity zapping over your skin. His thumb rubs into your jaw and the teasing edge falls from the corner of his lips. He’s so _ soft _in the way he presses tight, soothing circles against your aching jaw and you melt under his touch, simply enjoying the feeling of being cared for like this.

You look up at him, noticing his eyes are shining with laughter and you’re suddenly reminded of Jungkook, of the way he smiles just the same sometimes.

You ignore the thought, narrowing your eyes at him instead. “So you did that just to spite me? Is that how it is?”

He grins at you, cups your jaw and runs his thumb over your bottom lip. You almost sigh out loud at his touch and your rebellious edge softens ever so slightly, makes way for the pure desperation surging through your veins. “Maybe,” he replies lowly.

You huff, pouting up at him. He simply smiles and plays with your bottom lip. “Christian…” you whine out, blinking up at him. You shift, and suddenly you’re reminded of the way your soaking wet panties stick to you.

He simply tilts his head, his fingers trace down your neck and leave a trail of electricity buzzing underneath your skin. It travels down your spine and you shudder, his lips twitch upward when he notices it. “I don’t think you really mind, do you?”

_ He’s too confident _. You huff at him, he raises an eyebrow back at you in that same, overconfident way, and suddenly an idea grows in your mind.

You send him a small smile and reach for his cock, stroking slowly up and down the velvet skin. He takes a sharp breath as you lean down, pressing your tongue flatly against the head of his cock. You swipe your thumb across the slit and watch as his head falls back. _ Now’s your moment _.

You lean back and carefully move his cock back under the band of his boxers. His head snaps up, and he looks down at you just as you zip his jeans closed.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters underneath his breath. There’s something thrillingly dark in his voice and your heart flutters. “Get up,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You raise an eyebrow at him, putting on an innocent smile. “Now why would I do that?” you hum, palming his cock through his pants and watching his jaw clench as he lets out a sharp breath.

He narrows his eyes at you, a small smile curling at his lips as he playfully tugs at a loose strand of hair. “Because I asked you to, you little brat.”

You sigh, lips puckering up into a thoughtful pout. You could honestly go on teasing him like this for hours, and yet there’s something in the way he looks at you, something in the way he raises his eyebrow, tilts his head expectantly that melts away your urge to resist. “Fine,” you huff and he grins at you, your heart flutters in response. You try to ignore it, clumsily getting to your feet; your legs feel slightly wobbly.

Christian doesn’t give you much time to think about it, reaching up to grip your hips and pull you into his lap instead. You go along with it without protest, planting your knees on either side of his thighs and instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck as his own come around your waist. Warmth blooms in your chest when he smiles up at you, holding your chin between his fingers to keep you from leaning in and kissing him. You let out a frustrated sigh, shuffling forward as you pout at him, your heart beating out of your chest.

“Christian…” you whine softly, squirming in his lap as he firmly holds your face in place. He stares up at you with an almost dazed, starry look in his eyes, and your whole body grows burning hot. “Kiss me already.”

He grins lazily, his eyes flickering down to watch as his tongue traces his bottom lip. “God, I could listen to you whining my name all fucking day,” he mutters. Your heart skips a beat, you let out a sharp breath and your fingers tighten in his hair, you squirm yet again– and then finally, he kisses you.

It feels like a breath of fresh air, a wave of relief washing over you as you feel his lips on yours again. He swallows the choked sound you make and pants heavily into your mouth, his shoulders rising and falling underneath you. His fingers travel down your neck, your chest, your stomach. His touch is featherlight but it sears through you nevertheless, and you shudder in his arms, moaning softly into his mouth.

His fingers dig into your hips and pull you closer, pressing you to his chest. Your head spins as he licks into your mouth. You taste tequila on his tongue and it’s as if that only makes you more intoxicated, it only makes you want more and you whine, squirming in his lap as your fingers tighten in his hair.

He lets out a low moan, pulling on your hips so they drag you over his lap, his hard cock presses to your clothed clit and it makes your heart flutter, your insides burn. You moan out his name, it comes out so high-pitched and desperate that you expect him to tease you for it, but he simply moans in reply, pulling you over his lap again, pressing you to his cock as his thighs twitch underneath you.

He seems more eager, more rushed than you’re used to, like he isn’t entirely in control of everything for once. It’s addicting, exhilarating, the way his breath stutters when you roll your hips onto his of your own volition, the way he holds you just a little tighter as he pulls away from your lips and slowly trails kisses along your jaw, your neck, just along the collar of your shirt. His hot breath ghosts over your skin, it feels like it scorches your skin and burns right through you – you squirm yet again, your breaths growing quicker and more shallow. “Please, Christian…” you breathe, your head falling into the crook of his neck.

He breathes out sharply, fingers running along the waistband of your pants. “What was that?” he asks, his voice low and hoarse. His shoulders rise and fall with each breath, they’re rushed and uneven.

His touch sends shivers of heat down your spine, they pool between your thighs and you whine into his neck. His fingers run down your hips to trace light figures on your thighs. Goosebumps prickle at your skin as you feel his fingers press into your leg, _ so close _ … “Please, please, _ please _ just –” You cut yourself off with a frustrated breath when his fingertips run along your inner thigh, and moving outwards before he gets too close to your core.

“Hm?” he hums softly, teasingly.

You bite down on your tongue, leaning back to glare at him. He stares back at you with a smug smirk curling at his lips, though his eyes are almost glazed over, shimmering brightly in your living room lights. Something tightens in your chest, you feel so warm and _ comfortable _ in his arms. But that exact same feeling makes your head spin with confusion; you _ can’t _ feel this way about him. Not when Jungkook, with his bright eyes and happy smile, his floppy hair and his warm embrace, conjures up the same warm feeling inside of you. You blink at Christian, almost dazed as Jungkook’s face flashes in front of your eyes.

Christian’s eyebrows draw together subtly, his eyes darting over your face as if he's trying to look for something, something you're unwilling to show. “Tell me what you want,” he mumbles softly, hoarsely.

You blink at him once more, trying to catch up to the thoughts racing through your mind. You want Jungkook here with you, you want to make him feel the way Christian makes you feel, too, you want to do this _ with _ him. Biting your tongue, you push the thought from your mind. _ A fleeting moment of intimacy _ , you tell yourself. _ It's all this is. _

Somehow, it makes your heart feel heavier.

Christian's fingers run up your side, goosebumps rise on your skin and you’re pulled back to reality. A burning heat curls low in your gut, you squirm in his lap but it’s not enough – the thoughts of confusion are quickly drowned out by the hot waves of desperation rolling through you, your mind hazes up and suddenly all you can think is _ Christian, Christian, Christian. _ “Want you,” you mumble in one outbreath, shivering when he runs his fingers over your belly, traces down just a few inches before moving back up. “Please, please –” You have to take a breath, gathering your words while he just _ waits _ . You blink, your vision focuses on him, on his starry eyes and his soft features, on the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters right now. “Touch me, you absolute fucking _ tease _,” you huff out, hips rolling down to his.

His bright chuckle rings in your ears. It’s loud and uncontrolled, almost like the sound is pulled out of him unexpectedly. His thumb slips into your jeans and sneaks its way into your panties, tracing along your skin. He holds your gaze as your breath stutters. His fingers trail further down and your hips twitch, heat seeping into your skin as he stops just above your clit. “So _ needy _,” he hums, his head tilted slightly. His free hand runs along your waist, presses into your lower back, rubbing circles into your shirt with his thumb.

You sigh out shakily, unable to stop yourself from leaning forward and pulling him into a frantic kiss, wanting him closer, wanting to feel more of the searing heat that radiates off of him. You pant against his mouth, your heart beating out of your chest as his arm loops around your waist, his hand pressing into your hip to hold you in place. His finger runs down and rubs your clit; a wave of relief washes over you, a breathy moan escapes your lips.

Your hips buck up into his hand as his finger slips down to your soaked slit and he moans into your mouth. “So wet for me already…” he mumbles against your lips, circling your entrance slowly, lazily. You clench around nothing, whining as another surge of heat travels up your spine, burns at your cheeks, settles deep in your core. “This all just from gagging on my cock?”

You pant slightly, wiggling your hips as his finger circles you again. “So what if it is?” you exhale, the confidence in your voice wavering.

He laughs, pressing kisses to the corner of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw. He nudges your skin with his nose, lowering the hem of your underwear and slipping a finger into you. His palm presses to your clit, rubs against it and it’s like your spine curls into him under the heat careening through you.

“Christi_ ah, fuck _…” you moan out, burying your face into his shoulder as he crooks his finger and rubs against your walls, finds your g-spot surprisingly fast. He keeps his palm pressed against your clit, the rough skin of it keeps rubbing it as he slowly strokes your g-spot. Pressure is starting to build deep inside your gut, a swirling ball of heat that keeps growing and growing and growing until it starts to sizzle at your skin.

You whimper his name, mind hazy and breaths quickening as you start to unabashedly ride his hand, chasing the beginnings of the orgasm that he keeps _ just _out of reach by going slow.

Christian breathes out a soft laugh, his hand rubs your hip in an almost soothing manner, but you whimper yet again. “Gonna come riding my fingers?” he mutters lowly, nosing your temple.

His breath ghosts over your skin, through your hair. Goosebumps rise on your arms and torso, and it almost seems to pull you back to reality enough for you to think. “N-no,” you mutter, shaking your head frantically. You grind down on his palm nevertheless, almost out of reflex.

“No?” he repeats, soft and gentle, a tinge of amusement.

You whimper softly as you shake your head again, continuing to ride his hand, trying to chase the white-hot sensation spreading through your thighs, pooling low in your gut. You blindly run a hand down his chest, the soft fabric of his sweater brushing your palm until it lands on his cock. You palm it over his jeans, Christian hisses and groans into your ear. A burst of satisfaction runs up your spine and you grin, rubbing just a little bit harder until his hips twitch, another breathy moan ghosting over your temple. Your heart is racing, your cheeks hot, blood rushing in your ears. “Wanna come on your cock,” you mumble breathlessly.

He hums, his breathing stutters. “Yeah?”

You nod frantically, panting into his shoulder. “Please.”

He breathes out sharply and your heart flutters with satisfaction, a small smirk of pride curls at your lips. His nose presses into your temple as he kisses your jaw. His finger slips out of you and suddenly you feel too empty. He rubs your core just once before he travels up again, wet fingers brushing over your skin as he plays with the hem of your pants. Your lips find his again, almost magnetically and you pull him into another breathless kiss.

You moan lowly, forgetting almost everything that isn’t warmth and Christian and _ warmth _. “Can we –” you start, interrupting yourself as you bite on his bottom lip. “Move to the bedroom?” you finally manage.

He hums and it vibrates in his chest, sending shivers racing up your arms. “Lead the way,” he mumbles against your lips and every word sears into your skin.

You get up slowly, stumbling slightly as Christian’s lips never really leave yours; you just don’t seem to be able to separate yourself from him. You stumble through the apartment, blindly leading Christian down the route you’re somewhat familiar with. Christian’s hands steady you as they snake around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

He pulls the fabric of your shirt up and over your head. His fingers trace the length of your body, over the dip of your collarbone, down lower over your breasts and your breath hitches. You unclasp your bra, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin against yours. You’re almost hungry for it, wanting nothing more than to feel connected to him in every possible way. Your bra slides off your shoulders and you carelessly throw it on the floor before your fingers tangle with the edge of his sweater. Faintly, you hear the sound of your bedroom door being pushed open, you pant against Christian’s lips as you feel his warm skin underneath your fingertips. You tug it up as his hands trace over your stomach and grip your waist again. You whine softly when the heavy material of his sweater gets stuck under his arms.

He laughs, a wonderful rumbling sound that rolls down the length of your spine, and he helps you shrug the fabric off completely. Warm, warm muscles and soft, soft skin spread everywhere your fingers touch and you’re overwhelmed for a moment. His chest presses against yours and there’s an odd feeling of support that blossoms in your heart, even as you stumble over some unnameable and already-forgotten piece of fabric. You drag your fingers down his stomach and heady warmth spreads through your belly as the muscles jump under your touch. You trace the seam of his jeans, the rough material scrapes against your fingertips. You unbuckle his belt slowly, almost in a trance as he continues to kiss you in a messy, tumbling chaos of limbs and affection and searing heat that races up your body.

You pop the button of his jeans and drag the zipper down. He breathes heavily, almost relieved, and you grin against his lips. You push his pants down, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers to drag them down too. You struggle a little, your nose bumps against his and he groans, pulls them down his thighs in fast, rushed motions. A hollow thump sounds through the room and Christian stumbles slightly as he falls onto the soft mattress. You rush to take your own pants off, your fingers fumble with the zipper until you finally manage to wiggle out of them. Christian’s thumbs hook into your panties and your breath hitches. He looks at you, and for a moment everything seems suspended in time. He slowly drags them over your hips, his fingers brush against your skin as he moves further down and goosebumps follow in his path. You step out of them and settle in his lap again as his lips trail soft kisses down your jaw, moving up to your mouth. His tongue licks against yours and you sigh softly against his lips.

“You have a condom somewhere?”

“Don’t need one,” you pant desperately, shifting in his lap until you feel his cock brushing against your thigh. “You’re clean, I’m clean, I’m on the pill –”

“How do you know I’m clean?” he shoots back as you put your arms around his neck. There’s an amused smile tugging at his lips and you _ know _ he’s just asking this to tease you, to draw this out as much as possible.

You don’t have the energy to be calm and collected over this – Jungkook has told you numerous times he gets tested as much as Christian does, and you feel like you might as well combust on the spot. “If you’re not clean, I might just fucking kill you because I don’t _ have _ any condoms,” you huff, wiggling your hips in his lap. His skin feels so warm against yours. “That would fit you, anyway.” 

You can feel his lips curling into a smile against yours and you can’t help rolling your eyes. “Guess I’m lucky, then,” he mutters, pressing the lightest of kisses to your lips. You whine softly and lean back in, desperately wanting to feel his warm lips on yours. “Wouldn't want ‘death by brat’ listed in my obituary.”

You huff. “Ha ha, very funn– _ o-oh _,” you breathe out sharply, your nose bumping into his cheek when you feel his index slide over your clit and slowly travel down.

He rubs his finger over you, up and down and up again. Electricity races up your spine as he slips his index into you and crooks his finger gently. “Hm? What was that?” he mumbles against your lips, smugness dripping off of his words. His cock bumps against your thigh and you jump, a jolt of electricity shooting up your spine. “Cat got your tongue, did it?”

“Smug bastard,” you mumble, ignoring the way he chuckles as your hand travels down and grips his cock. Your heart stutters when you wrap your fingers around him, you’re struck again by how thick he really is. He strokes your walls slowly, almost languidly, as though he has all the time in the world.

You feel breathless, wound tight and oversensitive even though he’s barely touched you. He crooks his finger and your head falls forward, your forehead touches his and you whine. His palm rubs over your clit in maddening brushes of _ almost _ enough friction that send sparks racing up your spine. He adds a second finger and it pulls a shiver from you. His hand wraps around your hip and guides you on his fingers, helping you ride them and you whine again, against his lips. He swallows the sound, licks into your mouth again in small sweeping motions that steal your breath away. There’s that overpowering _ something _ again, the something that pulls your attention to him and only him. It brushes over your body, goosebumps rise wherever he touches you. He crooks his fingers again and grazes your g-spot.

“Christian –” you start, interrupting yourself when his thumb brushes over your clit. You grab his forearm for support, feeling the way the muscles stretch and move as he crooks his fingers again and again. Your nose brushes against his, your lips open on a breathy sigh and whisper against his own. Your nipples rub against his chest and sparks sizzle through your body. 

“So wet…” he whispers, almost to himself as he continues to stroke you in tender motions. “So _ fucking _wet,” he repeats, crooking his fingers just right. Your spine goes rigid and a moan tumbles from your lips. Your fingers tighten reflexively around his forearm.

“Please,” you mumble against his lips and you can feel them stretching into a smug smile.

“Please what, little brat?” he teases and you groan, pressing a desperate kiss to his mouth. Christian’s lips tug into a smile against yours and you clench around his fingers. You hate how in control he is, how he seems to know exactly what will drive you just that much further towards the edge. And yet, you can’t deny the shiver of pleasure that races through your body as he crooks his fingers again and again. 

“Fuck me,” you whine against his lips for what feels like the millionth time. And for the millionth time, he just smiles teasingly. You feel a third finger rubbing against you and impatience itches over your skin. “Come _ on _.”

His nose brushes against yours. “Not yet,” he whispers as three fingers push into you, slowly and torturously. You sigh shakily as the stretch overwhelms you, and you tilt your head back as he crooks his fingers. His lips dance over your neck in tingling patterns that pull a sigh from your lips.

You shift in his lap and his cock brushes against your inner thigh again. Christian’s jaw ticks and you grin; at least he’s not _ completely _unaffected. You lean closer, kissing his cheekbone as he kisses your jaw. You let go of his forearm, wrapping your fingers around him again and swiping your thumb over the head of his cock.

He groans and you smile. “Brat,” he rasps. The sound vibrates against your neck and travels down your spine, a shaky breath ghosts over your skin– but he doesn’t stop you. His fingers slip out of you and you exhale sharply, missing the feeling of them moving against you, stroking you heatedly, yet so _ fucking _ relieved you can finally feel all of him. 

You move slowly, pressing the blunt head against you and your breathing speeds up, your heart pounds. You slowly sink down on him, feeling him stretch you open. A breathy sound leaves your throat and Christian’s fingers run down your arms in soft patterns. 

“Okay?” he asks gently.

You barely manage to open your eyes and look at him. You nod, slowly, trying to form thoughts that go beyond _ full, full, full _ . There’s a slight sting as you take more of his cock, sinking into his lap. He stretches you in a way that pulls your awareness to him; every time you move, all you can think of is _ Christian _ . Every inch of his cock feels like too much and yet it’s not enough. You sink lower still. The pleasurable feeling of overwhelming fullness mixes with the gentle sting and Christian’s hands come down to your hips as he finally bottoms out. You let out a shuddering breath. “ _ Fuck _, you’re huge.”

Christian laughs and kisses you, his tongue feels hot and sultry against yours as the soft sting slowly fades. Your arms are tight around his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle as you slowly start rolling your hips. His cock feels heavy inside you, pressing against your walls and distracting you from the warmth of his mouth. The head of his cock presses against your g-spot and you whimper against his lips. Your head falls into the crook of his neck as you roll your hips again and slowly feel Christian meeting your thrusts. Slow, rolling motions press and pull him into you in torturous motions. You kiss the heated skin of his collarbone, tasting the sweat that has gathered there. Your breasts press against his chest and the added friction pulls a moan from your lips that you bury into the warm skin of his shoulder.

Christian’s fingers dig into your hips and he pulls you against him with more intent, his fingertips bruising into your skin. Your arms wrap around his neck and you pull yourself closer to him. His cock shifts inside you, the head presses against you at a new angle and your breath hitches. Electricity sparks under his touch and coils around your spine as you move against him. His hands run up your body, goosebumps trail his path and he cups your breast, you shudder. He groans and the sound reverberates deep in you. You can taste it against your lips as you kiss him again. Plush, full lips, a bruising kiss, Christian’s deep voice whispering filthy words have the coiling tendrils of your orgasm tighten their hold on your spine. They trickle down, pool low in your belly with every thrust. Every move of his hips and every glide of cock against your walls drives home the same relentless heat that swirls through you until you feel suffocatingly full.

You can feel the rhythm of his hips faltering slightly, it’s a stuttering staccato that forces a soft moan from your lips. Christian groans, low and deep from his chest. His head falls forward and onto your shoulder as you continue rolling your hips in figure eights, your breath hitching every now and then as the blunt head of his cock pushes relentlessly against your g-spot. 

“Fuck, I’m close, Y/N,” he whispers, hot breath fans over your neck as the words sear right into your skin. They’re soft and slow and breathy and so different from the confident, larger-than-life Christian you’re used to. It breaks your heart, the thought that you were given this moment of unsheltered vulnerability with him, and that it’s nothing more than a one-time thing. It aches dully in the pit of your chest, tangles awkwardly with the blistering heat of your orgasm. You can’t seem to get rid of the bittersweet taste on your tongue as Christian looks up at you and captures your lips in a kiss. Your hand runs in swerving motions up and down his torso and your nails brush over his nipples.

He hisses. “Stop that,” he says, biting his lip as he looks up at you. There’s a dark warning in his voice, an edge that you’ve never heard before. It’s unyielding and yet, you feel an itch to antagonise him. You trace your nails over his nipples again and his hands tighten around your hips, slowing them down. “I said, stop it, you _ brat _.” 

“Stop what, exactly?” you ask, batting your eyelashes innocently and Christian’s jaw tightens when you run your fingers over his chest once more.

“I’m not sure you know what you’re getting yourself into here,” he says softly, barely above a whisper as he looks at you. His breath fans over you, mingles with yours in the scant inches that separate you. Christian tilts his head, frowns slightly as the low lighting drags over his cheekbones, sharpening the cut of them. The silver of his septum piercing glints, light ricochets off the metal and attracts your gaze to it. You involuntarily clench around his cock, but the heavy breath Christian draws in almost makes you wish it had been intentional. You grin at him and his jaw tightens. His reaction sends a thrill rushing through your body. “Careful,” he warns you.

You feel that odd compulsion again, the need to antagonise him. “Or what?” you tease, tilting your head slightly.

He hums absently. His thumb rubs against your jaw and tilts your chin up as he looks at you. There’s a fierceness in his eyes that you haven’t seen before. It’s dark and it thrums through your bloodstream. You clench around his cock again and his eyes narrow, almost like he’s trying to figure something out about you.

His hands travel down your body, fire licks up your spine at his touch and your heart stutters a beat. He scoffs, licking his bottom lip as a small smirk spreads over his face. His fingers dig into your thigh. Your nails scratch down his stomach and he hisses softly, thrusting into you and grabbing your hand in a fluid motion.

For a moment, everything stops. For an instant, you’re suspended in the _ now _. You’re almost afraid to breathe and your heart pounds wildly in your chest. Christian’s lips tease yours with the faintest shadow of a kiss. And then, your breath hitches and Christian’s hand on your hips tightens, and he flips you over on the bed. 

Suddenly, he’s over you, broad and big and so very _ Christian _ that it tugs painfully at your heartstrings. He thrusts into you, and every single thought you have is replaced and moulded into _ Christian, Christian, Christian _.

He pulls your hand away from between you both and over your head. His cock rubs against your g-spot again and the maddening friction of his pubic bone against your clit sends careening heat through you. You moan and your spine arches slightly, your nipples rub against his chest. His name tumbles from your lips, uncontrolled and breathy and so _ unlike _you. His fingers tangle with yours. Warmth builds between your fingertips and pools in the spot where your palm meets his. His lips brush yours, swallow the moans that fall from your lips. The friction of his cock against your g-spot tangles with the way his chest rubs against yours, and your nipples tighten almost painfully. You whine against his lips, he bites your bottom lip and you clench around him.

Pleasure thrums through you, it electrifies every part of your body. Christian’s lips trail down your jaw, raising goosebumps in their wake and you gasp. His nose brushes against your neck and his fingers tighten around yours. 

“Christian, I –” you start, arching of the bed as his cock thrusts into you again. “_ Fuck _.”

He hums in response and presses his lips to your collarbone, traces his tongue along your salty skin. His hand pushes yours deeper into the mattress as he readjusts his grip. He’s so present, so overwhelmingly _ there _ that it takes over your mind, pulls a sharp breath from your lips.

You drag your fingers over his body, tracing the hard lines of his chest, the swirling patterns of ink, moving higher still, over the ridges of his collarbones and the sharp cut of his jaw. His thrusts slow, they turn into a never-ending, grinding push and pull that drives the thickness of his cock further home. “Fuck, so– so thick,” you mutter as he sucks a hickey into your skin. Christian grins against your neck, grinding even slower, as though he’s trying to make a show of every single inch. You slap his arm gently. “Show-off.”

He laughs softly, presses a kiss to your skin and grinds again, push and pull. You moan, digging your nails into his shoulder as his cock presses against your g-spot again. Shadowy tendrils of electricity grow, extend and wrap around your spine with every slow thrust and you whine high in your throat. The pressure winds tighter and tighter with every motion. Your hand tightens around his and your breath stutters as you tilt your hips, meeting every thrust as electricity pools low in your belly. 

Christian lets go of your hand and it suddenly feels empty. He cages you in his arms, his forearm brushes against your temple with every motion of his hips and your heart stutters. He swears under his breath when you grind your hips up, meeting his thrusts with your own. “You’re gonna kill me,” he whispers against your temple, running one hand down the length of your body. Over your neck, the faintest brush of his fingertips, then his lips, plush and warm. Over your chest; he pinches your nipples and the pain mixes with the thrumming pleasure of his cock brushing against your g-spot. His tongue follows, licks over the hardened tips and you moan, arching slightly into his touch. Your fingers dig into his hair as his hand travels lower, over your stomach and down the lines of your hips. He bites at your nipple and you whine until he soothes the soft ache with his tongue. 

His thumb rubs your clit and fire races through your body, up your legs like a shiver and pools in your gut, low and heavy and electric. “Christian –” you exhale, cutting yourself off when his lips run up your neck and you clench around him.

He groans and the sound travels through you, settles in your bones. “Come for me, Y/N,” he whispers into your skin and you shiver at the rasp of his voice. His finger rubs tight circles over your clit and you can feel the wisps of an orgasm thickening as he strokes you.

You pull him closer, slot your lips against his again and moan as your legs tremble against his hips. He rubs his thumb, faster and faster. He bites your lower lip and licks over the sting and suddenly, unexpectedly, you feel the tension gathering in your belly shatter. You moan against his lips and your back arches as heat races up your spine, and your hips tilt up into Christian’s. He thrusts into you as you ride out the aftershocks, moaning softly as bursts of electricity keep shooting through you.

He groans heavily against your lips and you clench around him again. You can feel that he’s close; his breathing speeds up, his eyebrows furrow as his thrusts turn sloppy and less controlled. Every muscle in his body tightens, drawing together like the string of a bow. You whimper with oversensitivity when his cock brushes against your g-spot again and again. He whispers your name, it tumbles heavily from his lips and echoes against yours. 

“Fuck, fuck –” he whispers and you smile as his shoulders shake with his own orgasm. His cock pulses deep inside you and you shiver against him. His shoulders relax and he shivers once when you clench around him. He breathes against you, and you smile softly as your eyes flutter closed, the afterglow of your orgasm tingling at your skin. 

For a moment, the only sound that cuts through the silence is your breathing, your heart pounding against your ribs. You’re almost scared to move, as though you might disrupt the air between you and shatter that indefinable feeling that hangs around you.

The moment of silence stretches out into eternity, but finally, Christian moves and carefully pulls out of you. You wince slightly as your core aches dully, and you feel his come starting to leak out of you. He presses a kiss to your lips, your nose brushes his as a smile teases over your lips. “Sorry,” he whispers, smiling softly as he moves off of you, settling into the mattress.

You snort, letting him pull you into him. “No you’re not,” you reply as his arms wrap around your hips, pulling you tighter against him until his chest presses against your back. You can’t even mind the sweat that sticks to you both when he kisses your shoulder.

“Nah, I’m not,” he agrees and you laugh softly. His breath fans across your neck and subtle, pleasurable shivers blossom in your spine, rolling down slowly as silence gathers between you once more. There’s an odd sense of incompletion, as though something is missing. You turn your face into the pillow and inhale deeply. Jungkook’s soapy scent soothes you and you relax against Christian.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” you mutter, trying to distract yourself from the jumbled mess of feelings that swirl thickly through your brain. “But I don’t think I can _ walk _,” you add accusingly, glaring at Christian over your shoulder. 

He smiles gently, his eyes glimmering. “That’s okay,” he replies, kissing your temple. “I’ll carry you.”

* * *

  
  


You huff. The bed feels warm, way too warm. Your skin feels like it’s burning up and you shift in discomfort underneath the covers, shoving the duvet down just a little bit to let out some of the heat. You sigh softly when cold air hits your skin, welcoming the way goosebumps prickle at your cooling skin.

It’s only when the initial relief wears off, however, that you realise– you’re not wearing _ anything _.

“Good morning, sunshines.”

Your eyes snap open and you squeeze them closed right away; the strong sunlight hurts your eyes too much for you to keep them open, and so you squint at the doorway instead. Jungkook is leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, his arms crossed and an amused smile teased over his lips.

Your eyebrows furrow. If he’s out _ there _ and you’re in _ here _ but the bed is still so hot, it has to mean…

You turn your head to look over your shoulder, your eyes falling on the sleeping figure next to you. Your heart skips a beat as the memories of last night hit you at full force and abruptly shake you awake, your eyes wide even though the sunlight still hurts them.

Christian doesn’t seem to have noticed much of anything, and his lips are parted slightly as he stays asleep. His lashes flutter over his cheeks, his bangs fall messily over his forehead rather than curl _ kind of _ neatly like it usually does. Even more warmth spreads through your veins as your head falls back on your pillow and you sigh, closing your eyes again. “What time is it?” you mutter. Your voice feels rough, your tongue feels dry. You groan, softly smacking your mouth even though it doesn’t help one bit.

“1 PM,” sounds the amused reply.

You squint at Jungkook once more, moving to sit up. The covers slip off your body and you shiver when your bare chest is exposed to the cold bedroom air, but you don’t make an effort to cover up. “What? When did you come home?” you say, wincing at the hoarseness of your voice, the roughness in your throat. _ You need some goddamn water. _

“‘Round eight hours ago,” Jungkook replies, snickering when you groan softly and fall back onto the bed, covering your aching eyes. “I slept in your bed by the way, since you guys occupied mine.”

“We _ what _ ?” you ask, forcing yourself to fight through the pain and open your eyes again. You squint at your surroundings – _ fuck, you really are in Jungkook’s bedroom. _

Jungkook simply chuckles, turning around and stepping out of sight. You blink as your mind tries to catch up to reality. “Wait, how did we…” you trail off, letting out a sigh. Your mouth feels as dry as your throat.

Jungkook returns in the doorway and tosses a bunch of clothes at you. “You left this on the floor,” he says as you catch the pile of fabric, fighting the urge to crawl back underneath the covers and fall asleep again. “Want some breakfast?”

You simply groan, giving up the fight and falling back to the mattress, hugging the clothes in your arms. “One thing at a time, please.”

Jungkook snickers as your eyes flutter closed again. A subtle but dull pain is starting to throb between your thighs and you shift, face contorting in discomfort. “I’ll put the pancakes in the fridge.”

You hum, nodding slowly. You open your mouth to reply, though it snaps closed again when Christian sighs from behind you. His arm drapes loosely around your waist and a shiver of warmth runs up your spine, moves back down and soothes some of the pain between your thighs. Your arms tighten around the clothes in your hold and you sigh softly, sinking into Christian’s warm embrace.

“I have some water in the kitchen for when you horny kids decide to roll out of bed,” Jungkook remarks, amusement drips off of his every word and he almost sounds like he’s won some sort of contest. _ As if. _

You whine, covering your face with the clothes in your arms to shield your eyes from the sunlight.

Christian huffs into your neck and goosebumps prickle at your skin. “I’m too fucking old for tequila,” he mumbles. His voice sounds rough around the edges, and he sounds just as groggy as you.

You can’t help but laugh softly as Christian nuzzles his nose into your shoulder, and you feel him smile against your skin. “Good morning to you, too,” you mutter in reply.

He snickers, his arm tightens around your waist and you can’t help the warm feeling that blossoms in your chest, the serenity that seems to settle over you. “Good morning, baby,” he mutters into your skin and the warmth in your chest turns almost painful and constricting when the pet name leaves his lips so unintentionally, so naturally. _ This is the last time _ , you think to yourself yet again, and the thought hurts just as much as it did a week ago. _ This really is the last time – _but you don’t want it to be.

“We should get out of bed,” you mutter, trying to ignore the pain that seems to radiate through your entire body.

He hums again, nods slowly, and his nose rubs against your skin as he shuffles closer to you. “Yeah,” he mutters as your legs tangle together. His thumb rubs soothing circles into your ribs, right underneath your breast.

You feel fabric brush against your bare skin and you frown, your arm sneaking back underneath the covers and patting down his body. “Why do you get to wear boxers?” you huff, almost offended.

He chuckles, letting you rest your hand on his thigh. “I don’t know, you were the one who fell asleep naked.”

You snort, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you’re roasting me.”

“I would never roast you,” he returns teasingly and you laugh softly. You feel his smile widen against your skin and you take a breath in, a breath out, trying to commit the moment to memory, trying to remember the way his arms wrap around you, the way his bare chest presses against your back, the way he makes you feel so warm inside and out.

You don’t realise you’ve drifted off into thought until Christian sighs and presses a kiss into your shoulder. “I’ll let you get dressed,” he whispers and you sigh softly, nodding as his arms slip away from you. Your hand drops to the mattress as his thigh moves out from underneath it.

One eye opens slightly and you watch him walk out of the bedroom. His and Jungkook’s voices hum lowly in your ears but you can’t quite make the words out – you don’t really feel like trying, either.

You turn around and hug the clothes in your arms tighter instead, curling up around them. They do nothing to mask Christian’s lingering scent. It’s like the dull pain between your thighs slowly travels up and finds a second home in the pit of your stomach and you bite down on your tongue, heaving a sigh. _ You need to get out. _

You force yourself to roll out of bed and you rise to your feet, your legs a little wobbly. The sunlight still hurts your eyes but you force them to get used to it, slowly opening your eyes further and further as you slip back into last night’s underwear. Deciding against stepping back into your shirt and jeans, you stumble over to Jungkook’s closet and pull out one of his oversized hoodies instead, letting it hang off your shoulders like a dress. Snatching a pair of thick socks from one of his drawers, you pad over to the living room, precariously hopping from one leg to the other as you slip them onto your feet.

The living room is flooded with the natural sunlight that streams in from the windows. Jungkook and Christian are in the kitchen, Christian is bent over the kitchen island with an empty glass in his hand, squinting down at the wooden countertop. He seems to have found the sweater you pulled off of him last night, though he still isn’t wearing any pants, and you have to force yourself not to look down. A second glass of water rests on the island and you let out a grateful sigh, grabbing it off the counter and chugging it in one go.

“Refill?”

You breathe heavily as you set the glass back down and you look at Jungkook, who seems just as amused as he was when he woke you up. Nodding wordlessly, you let him take the glass from you and you rest your elbows on the island, leaning your chin in your hands.

Jungkook sends you a smile as he sets down a full glass of water in front of you and you blink slowly, smiling softly in thanks as you chug the entire glass yet again. “Had fun with Namjoon?” you ask him, putting the glass back down.

“Yeah, we went to this really cool bar downtown and tested out their weird drinks,” he replies, chuckling softly. “Talked pretty much all night.” He leans against the counter and crosses his arms, his eyes flicker over to Christian and linger for a moment.

You smile at him, nodding slowly. “Anything we should try out?”

He grins at you, taking Christian’s glass and filling it back up. “Oh, I think you’d _ love _ their lavender-flavoured vodka,” he replies as he hands the glass back to Christian, who silently drinks the entire glass in one go.

Your eyes narrow at Jungkook. “Why does that sound so sarcastic?”

His grin widens and he simply shrugs, resting his elbows on the counter. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’m being absolutely and completely serious right now,” he says as Christian puts his glass back down, chuckling softly. An amused smile curls at Jungkook’s lips as he picks both your glasses back up and fills them yet again.

You huff, taking the glass from him. Your throat is soothed by the cool water, though you’re sure the roughness will come back to bite you in the ass later. “Of course you are,” you say with a snort, taking a sip of your water.

He grins as he hands Christian his glass. You glance at Christian as he runs a hand through his hair – he looks as tired as you, though he seems to be recuperating a little more slowly than you.

“Anyways, so who’s better?”

Both you and Christian sputter on your water and it splatters to the countertop. You cough heavily, the roughness returns. Gaping up at Jungkook, you feel your cheeks flush red and your eyes flicker over to Christian, who is still slapping his chest to get the water out of his windpipe. “Really?” you ask him hoarsely, taking another sip of water to soothe your throat. “You wanna do this _ now _?”

Jungkook’s amusement only seems to grow and he shrugs, grabbing a towel to wipe the counter dry. “Well, you know. Since both contestants are here…”

“Oh my god,” you mutter, burying your face in your hands. Your heart is beating fast, your mind can’t stop recalling what it’s like with _ both _ of them and your stomach somersaults. “This is not a contest.”

“It kind of is,” Christian says with a chuckle and you look up at him, your lips part.

“Come on, don’t tell me you’re picking his side,” you all but whine.

Christian just smiles, shrugging.

You scowl at him, falling silent as you sip on your water, feeling their stares burn into you. More heat rises to your cheeks and you hide your face behind your glass, stubbornly keeping your lips sealed.

“You’re not very good at building suspense, babe,” Jungkook remarks, grinning at you as he grabs a glass himself and fills it with water. “Just tell us and we can move on to you calling me your lord and saviour for a month.”

Christian lets out a surprised laugh, raising an eyebrow as he looks between the two of you. “Sounds like some high stakes, there.”

You groan, shaking your head yet again. “I’m not –” You sigh, rubbing your eyes. You know you have to say _ something _ to get yourself out of the situation, and yet you don’t know what the hell that something should be. “You’re both… good, okay?” you conclude with a sigh, shaking your head yet again. You refuse to meet their eyes, fixing your gaze on the counter as you trace the grains of the light brown wood. “Just –” _ God dammit. _ “Different.”

“Different how?”

You lift your eyes to glare at Jungkook, who simply shrugs back at you. You’re starting to hate that amused grin teased over his lips and he seems to know it – but he doesn’t seem to care all that much. “I don’t know, just _ different _,” you insist, throwing back the last of your water and looking down into the glass.

It feels wrong to compare them in a competition sense; they feel different, they make you feel different things. If anything, rather than being opposites, they’re complementary. Christian’s touch sears through you like wildfire, Jungkook brushes over you like running water. Both make your head spin but it’s _ different _ for each, and the thought of trying to compare them sits uncomfortably in your throat.

Jungkook hums. “Guess we’ll have to figure it out some other way, then,” he says, taking a sip of water. Your eyebrows shoot up and you can’t help but look at Christian to see his reaction – he looks up at Jungkook with his lips pursed, a small but suppressed smile tugging at his lips. His eyes twinkle in the winter sun that breaks through the windows and he laughs softly, looking down into his glass and you _ swear _ his cheeks are flushed a light red.

You look back at Jungkook, whose eyes dart from Christian to the counter and back to Christian. You can’t help smile at how obvious it all seems to you. _ Was this how Namjoon and Seokjin felt about you and Jungkook? _

You would have expected at least a tinge of jealousy; it should feel weird that he seems so nervous around someone else, shouldn’t it? And yet, it doesn’t – it almost feels more natural than him _ not _ reacting to Christian. There’s something comforting about that fact that Jungkook seems affected by him, too. Suddenly, you have something in common that you never thought you would and it feels _ right _ – you’re starting to understand what Jungkook might have felt when he saw the way you were with Christian. No jealousy; just a deep sense of belonging and it feels comfortable, warm.

You smile softly, spinning your glass on the counter. “So, when do I get my evaluation, huh?” you ask, deciding to change the subject just to break the silence. If anything, you now know how awkward Jungkook must be feeling, and you feel the need to help him out.

“Oh, so you refuse to give us a review but you do want one yourself?” Jungkook teases, pointedly staring at you. “I see how it is.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Why don’t you just go fuck each other and find out, hm?” you shoot back, challengingly raising an eyebrow at Jungkook. “Give my poor vagina a little break while we’re at it, shall we?”

Jungkook laughs softly, taking a sip of his water and he raises an eyebrow at you as well –

“Oh, but wouldn’t it be more fun if you were there, too?” Christian remarks as his hand slings around Jungkook’s shoulder. You almost choke on your water yet again, your eyes wide as you gape at him. He grins back at you, smug and teasing and you have no way of knowing whether he’s joking or not – you just laugh in surprise. Jungkook seems to be just as taken aback, his eyes widening just briefly before he clears his throat, composing himself.

You straighten your back, a small smile curling at your lips. “Look, I literally _ just _ said my downstairs area needs a fucking break, alright?” you return, crossing your arms as your grin widens.

Christian laughs, his arm slips off of Jungkook’s shoulder to lean on the counter instead. “Fair enough,” he says through a laugh, throwing back the last of his water and pushing himself off the counter. Your eyes flicker over to Jungkook – he’s holding his glass in front of his face, though it does nothing to hide his flushed cheeks. “Better luck next time, eh?” he adds in that same teasing tone.

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Whatever you say.”

He laughs once more, padding over to the living room to collect the rest of his clothes. You look over your shoulder, watching him as he walks and you sigh softly. “Anyways, before I forget,” he starts, grabbing his pants off the floor. “I’m having a holiday get-together with a few friends next Saturday, you guys are welcome to come. See it as a… thank you for taking care of Lori, I guess,” he says with a soft laugh, his back still turned to you as he quickly steps into his pants and pulls them up. Your heart aches and you force yourself to turn around again, looking down into your glass. “Or a celebration to end this weirdass bet of yours,” he adds with a snort.

Jungkook seems to be in a better mood; “More alcohol?” he remarks with a laugh. “I thought you were too old for that.”

You hear Christian snort and Jungkook sends him a grin, shrugging. “Look, I’m gonna be hosting, so I’ve gotta be the mom friend for a night,” he replies, swiping his socks off the floor. “Though you kids are welcome to drink as much as you want, of course.”

You laugh and bury your face into your hands, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you’re calling me a _ kid _,” you mutter through a laugh, more to yourself than to Christian.

Christian’s footsteps come closer yet again and your heart beats harder, faster, you wince slightly. “Well, I mean, you’re bratty enough to be one.”

You choke on your own spit, your cheeks flush a bright red and you let out a groan. “Why am I not surprised?” says Jungkook through a laugh and you lift your head to glare at him. “So this is why you didn’t wanna say anything, huh?”

You huff. “You better shut up if you ever want me to do your dishes ever again.”

You hear Christian laugh and you turn to face him. Your cheeks flush at the dark look in his eyes. Your heart skips a beat and you swear you can _ hear _Jungkook’s smug grin stretching slowly across his cheeks. Turning back, you open your mouth to tell him off –

A phone pings and Christian swears under his breath, padding back to the couch. He reaches for his jacket, swears again when it takes him a moment to find his phone, grins when he finally fishes it out. You sigh heavily, fondness tugs at your heartstrings painfully.

“Ah, damn, I gotta go guys.” His eyebrows furrow cutely as he looks down at his phone, swiping his thumb across the screen and typing something out. He locks his phone and slips it into his pocket as he looks back up at you and Jungkook, grabbing his jacket off the couch. “I’ll see you around, yeah?” 

Jungkook nods almost eagerly and you grin softly. It’s odd to see him this shy, and simultaneously it’s _ so fucking adorable _. Christian waves a little awkwardly as he walks backwards towards the door, steps into his shoes almost clumsily. He swipes his helmet off the floor, sends you one last smile and you softly tell him goodbye. He returns the gesture as the door opens and he finally slips out. 

You look back at Jungkook. He grins at you almost evilly and apprehension weighs in your belly at the mischievous glint in his eyes. He plants his elbows on the counter, knits his fingers together and rests his chin on them as his grin widens. “So,” he starts suggestively, quirking an eyebrow at you. “Tell me _ everything _.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading ahhh!!! It’s been an intense writing and editing process but we hope that you enjoy the end product so far!! Let us know what you thought, we’d love to hear from you :) We hope you have a wonderful day/night♥♥♥


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